The Path of the Jedi: Into the Force
by NiggleLeaf
Summary: A boy from Earth discovers that the fantasy galaxy of Star Wars is not only real, but that he has the abilities of the Force; Part 1 shows his growth in friendships and the Force at the Jedi Academy, while Part 2 pits him and his Jedi friends against a mysterious band of kidnappers; original characters, includes canon and legends; read A/N for more info
1. Chapter 1: The Explorer

A/N

Hello all, and thank you for reading my story. I wanted to take this time to orient this story in the Star Wars universe. I myself have seen the movies many times, the Clone Wars and (most of) the Rebels series, and read a couple EU (Expanded Universe) novels (also some SW guides). So while I have a good grasp of Star Wars basics, I do not claim to be an expert. This story will try to thread the gap between pre- and post-Disney timelines, but deviates from either when necessary. The story takes place post-Star Wars movies, and while references are made to previous characters, it features a completely original cast of characters. In general, this work is at its heart a story: a tale of characters and the challenges they face (and NOT meant to be a Mary Sue). Therefore, it is my hope that it can be enjoyed by Star Wars fans and non-Star Wars fans alike. To help you out, I try to italicize any new creature, planet, or concept I created the first time I introduce it into the story. All other foreign concepts are from the EU. Languages, such as Basic and Huttese, appear in the story and when possible is based on existing information, but since Basic is just English in Star Wars, it is based on something different, which will become clearer later in the series.

I anticipate this as a trilogy of stories, this being the first in the series _The Path of the Jedi_. I will try to update weekly with new chapters, anticipating its culmination in September of 2018, with the subsequent books appearing in late 2019.

With all that said, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it.

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A/N #2

It is now 2019, a year after I began publishing this work. As promised above, I will begin publishing Part II in July, August, and September of 2019. I have also made some changes to previously published chapters in Part I (including this chapter). As the quote attributed to da Vinci said, "Art is never finished, only abandoned."

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 **Finally, please feel free to comment and leave a review; this work, like all art, is meant to be discussed and I welcome any feedback.**

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 **Part 1: The Boy from Earth**

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 **Chapter 1: The Explorer**

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A distant whirring, then a woosh overhead.

He looked up.

Nothing.

He thought about telling the others, but then, he thought to himself, it would be just like those crazy tin-foil-wearing-area-fifty-nine-crawling nut-jobs seeing things in the clear Arizona sky.

Anyways, eyes back to the path.

"Can we stop and rest?" his sister asked.

"Yeah, alright," his mother said. "Hey, Ken, Lilly needs a rest!" she called up ahead. The family put down their backpacks and sank down as the sun beat against their backs. He graciously took the bottle from his mother and took a few sips, while his dad made his way back. He poured some of the water into his hat and put it back on, feeling the beads of water dribble down his neck. He liked hiking, he really did! But why did it have to be so damn hot? The sun blazed with an energy out here that he just didn't feel back home in Maryland. It seemed to streak to the ground faster, sear harsher and turn all the land red. He knew that some people liked it, but it always felt rather suffocating to him.

"Why are we breaking?" his father asked. "We're so close."

"Lilly needed a rest," his mother said. She looked over the hazy desert. "We shouldn't have taken this path. We're gonna get stopped by a ranger, or you're gonna fall off that cliff over there."

"Beth," his father said. "There's nothing to worry about. The ranger at the station even said it was fine. Just because it isn't on the map, it doesn't mean that it's dangerous. The arch is supposed to be –"

"O.K., O.K.," she said, cutting him off. "Let's just go. C'mon guys." He caught his sister's eye and they laughed. Their parents' arguments were always entertaining, and his mother's complaints about the prospects of his father falling off a cliff were a classic.

After a few more minutes of hiking, they turned the corner and saw the arch. All four of them immediately stopped and stared. But it wasn't because of the arch. It was because of the spaceship underneath it.

"Wait, so, are those some of those crazy alien-hunter weirdos?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth. They must be, or maybe it's some science thing that _looks_ like a spaceship.

"Well, I'll just go down and see," his father said.

His mother opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. "I don't know…"

"Beth, it's no big deal. It looks fun."

"We don't know what it is. It could be a government project or something. We shouldn't just la-di-da down…"

"The rangers would have told us; I'm just going to check it out." He went down without another word.

The other three members watched from behind a rock as his father climbed down. They heard him shout "hey!" to two people who appeared to be examining the ground. They suddenly saw his father and stood up. They looked wound up, like a cat in a corner. His dad seemed to sense this and stopped walking. He greeted them again and asked what they were doing. They still said nothing, but one of them touched his arm and the door to the spaceship opened. Out of the steam came what looked like a robot, or someone dressed as a robot.

 _O.K.,_ he thought, _these people are clearly obsessed, and most likely unbalanced. The smart thing would be to turn around now_. But all four of them stayed where they were, transfixed at the otherworldly scene. The gold humanoid robot continued walking until it was standing a couple feet in front of his father.

"REE-teen AH-ma-neen…KAH-sut KAH-beese?"

 _Oh great, they made up their own language, too_. At least that's what everything the robot said sounded like. His dad stood, looking nonplussed. Then he smiled and continued.

"Hi! So…"

"Hah-ee," the robot-man said.

"Yes. Hi." Again, his dad looked confused. "So, is that a model spaceship? Are you guys into aliens?" His dad was conversing about aliens as one might chat about the weather. The robot-man stood, looking.

"Yesss," the man finally said.

"Oh! Well cool! Was that, like, Klingon that you were speaking?" A pause.

"Yoo," the robot-man said, pointing to his father. Now his dad looked really confused.

"Me?" his dad asked, pointing at himself.

"Mee"

"You?" The robot-man pointed at himself and pointed up. His dad laughed. "What, you're from outer space?" Again, his dad laughed. The robot-man also chuckled mechanically.

"Me from outer space," he said, again pointing up. His dad chuckled again.

"O.K. alien. Can I go inside your spaceship? It looks really cool." He started forward. The robot-man held up his hand and the father stopped. Another figure emerged from the ship, looking slightly familiar. The boy tried to think if he had seen this costume before…and then the figure turned to him. And he was suddenly seized with the undeniable understanding that this was not a human. He felt the presence of the other, a foreigner from a foreign land, a stranger not seen or felt on this earth: an alien. The figure seemed to ponder something as he stared at the boy. A slight breeze fell down into the depression and the sound of a faint trickle of pebbles bounced on the walls. Then silence again.

The alien beckoned to the remaining family members and walked back into the ship. The boy began to stand up and his mother pulled him back.

The boy looked to the mother. He could see in her face the creeping fear, the lingering doubt, but also the growing fascination.

"Couldn't you feel it? I think this is…" His mother was silent. He started to move, and Lilly moved after her brother. Their mother quickly moved in front of her children as they marched toward the misty opening. The family followed the alien up the ramp.

 _Who are you?_ a voice said in the boy's mind. Was it the alien's? In his head, the boy answered back.

 _Abel_.

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After an hour, the protocol droid was proficient in the English language. The alien often helped the language learning process, leaning forward in his chair to make a point, then sinking back into the semi-darkness. He certainly looked like an alien. His angry red skin, like the world outside, was lined with veins and he seemed part robot with some sort of mask obscuring his mouth and two coverings over his eyes like death. When he wasn't helping with language lessons, he was continuing to stare at Abel.

"Now that we can speak together," the droid said, "my name is C-4XA, human-cyborg relations. We cannot, I am afraid, reveal our purpose on your planet, but –"

The alien interrupted him and the droid translated the message. "It is helpful in our work to talk to natives. And I sense the light." He did not elaborate. The droid seemed flustered, as much as a droid could be, that is.

"Ah. Well, we are on an exploratory mission to chart a new hyperlane from Coruscant to Endor, exploring new life on the way –"

"Wait!" Abel interrupted, looking at his family who had all noticed it. "Hyperlanes? Coruscant and Endor? Is Star Wars real?" But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt foolish. Of course it's not, these are actors after all. Though they certainly created an elaborate ruse. The alien, however, stood up.

"You know these things?"

"Well…yeah. From movies."

After they explained, the alien interrupted, "How is it that you happened upon these images?" But by this point, Abel had had enough.

"O.K., I give up. I can't keep doing this if you're just doing this for fun. Tell me the truth, now, or we're calling the cops to pick you up for trespassing on park land. If you really are from up there…we need proof." The alien thought for a moment as his sister and dad nodded while his mother fidgeted. Then the alien removed a glinting cylinder from under his robes and clicked a button.

"Does this answer your question?"

The blue lightsaber hummed with life.

.

"You…you're a Jedi." It was his mother who spoke first. The alien looked to her and waved his hand at a cup. The cup lifted off the table, then flew to his outstretched hand.

"Yes. My name is Master Ma Fenn."

"Hold on," Abel said, concentrating on a forming idea. "You could have that cup on a wire or something."

"You are skeptical." Then with a flick of his hand, Abel began to rise. His feet left the ground and he hovered two feet off the floor of the ship. It was a strange feeling, being weightless. Then he was gently put back down. Lilly's mouth had fallen open.

Abel's breathing was a little uneven. "O.K., so…maybe…"

"Skepticism is good, on the whole," Ma said. "It allows one to examine, to understand…to look beyond that which is seen. But in this, I will ask you to trust. The Force resists examination, and every time Jedi try to probe its mysteries, it slips away again."

"To be fair," Abel countered, "I doubt you, not the Force." The edges of Ma's eyes crinkled.

"No, you doubt my existence, and by extension, the idea that life can exist beyond your world. Oh, not your planet," for Abel had been about to interrupt him. "I mean the world of your mind. To you, I am a fantasy, this movie, and you cannot reconcile your fantasy world with a real, living world. And the connection between the mind and the body, between the possibility and reality, that is the Force. You doubt that there is a power greater than that of your world. And so I ask you again, to trust."

Abel thought about it. _Trust in the Force? Do I actually believe in the Force after only stumbling upon these explorers two hours ago?_ But suddenly all the questions that were being constructed in his mind died, leaving one single thought. _It would be so much easier if I just believed…_ and the cup in the alien's hand twitched.

It had drawn the eye of everyone in the room and silence fell. Ma Fenn broke it. "I knew this boy could wield the Force from the moment I saw him. I felt it."

"What!" Abel started to pace. "Then why haven't I been able to do anything until now? I mean, I've tried enough times to _accio_ the remote across the room…"

At this, Ma furrowed his brow. "Yes, this is puzzling. My powers are greatly diminished on this planet, a sensation I have not felt in a long time. But even without this effect, and even with your…" his eyes crinkled again "summoning attempts, you most likely would not have been able to use the Force. You never did believe in its power."

"What, so seeing is believing for the Force?"

"Did my demonstration really make you believe?" Abel thought about it and was silent. "I should like to take this boy with me to begin Jedi training." His family was taken aback.

"What?" his mother piped. "Take him? Oh…I don't think so."

"He would be able to return for periods of time. But it would greatly benefit both him and us to have him in our order."

She sank into a chair. She seemed ready to protest again, but then she looked around the room, at the wondrous world her son would enter, and she couldn't help but let a smile creep onto her face. His father was pondering the implications and his sister's eyes were far away. Finally, Abel spoke.

"I am sixteen. Does that matter?"

"That's true," his father said. "Don't they usually train Jedi from a much younger age?"

"We generally like to have them start younger, age eight for humans," Ma said. "But many of our initiates, in fact most, do not start until later because with a greatly diminished order, for reasons you apparently know, we often do not locate Force-users until they are older. Abel will fit right in at the academy." It was Lilly who spoke up next.

"What year is it anyways for the galaxy?" She looked around sheepishly, embarrassed that she had spoken. "Well, the movies are always long, long ago."

"But they weren't far, far away," Abel said with a grin.

"The year is 227 after the Battle of Yavin, which was the battle in which the first Death Star was destroyed." They processed this information. In almost a last desperate attempt, his mother spoke again.

"But he at least has to come home for Christmas… Right?"

"Students receive regular holidays. He will be allowed to come back to visit."

No one spoke. Abel saw his father holding his mother's hand and heard him sigh. None of them knew how this should go.

The Jedi master continued. "In the meantime, we should establish diplomatic ties with your planet's leader and begin the process of cultural exposure. We could send ambassadors, and they could –"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," his father confessed. "It was probably good that you remained hidden here."

"Yeah," Abel said. "For starters, we do not have a planetary leader. We have 197 countries, at least according to Sporcle, and every one of them has factions, and…well, at the very least, your arrival would kick-start the doomsday preppers to start shooting. It just…it would not be good. Trust us."

"Yes, this may be true. Perhaps…" Ma sighed, looking old. "Yes, things have been changing in the Jedi Order. It is certainly not what it once was." He left that cryptic statement hanging in the air. "Very well, I will advise the Academy to accept your request. But I really do need an answer. We must return to report to Ossus in the coming days."

 _Coming days?_

Abel looked to his family. Two hours ago, he was on a hike with them on their family trip, their yearly traditional vacation. So much of his family was tradition. They were about as close as any family could be. Not to be callous, but Luke Skywalker's choice was easy. Abel's family was still alive, and he would be leaving so much of it behind. He knew that he was deciding on something so much bigger than a boarding school. He was deciding on a way of life, a path that did not include the traditions of his family. But he could not pass up the Jedi tradition, either. To be able to use the Force…and it's not just about the physical power; he would be validating that there is something else out there. Nietzsche was wrong. There is something more out there.

"I think…I would like to go." He looked at his family, but especially at his mother. Her mouth was shut tight.

"Maybe," his father began, "if you would stay with us for a couple days or so…" Beth's eyes shot wide and she tugged against his arm. Abel could hear her mutter things like, "the house is a mess" and "he could be a – for all we know."

"We really do need to return, but we could of course stay to learn more about your culture. We will leave the ship here."

"Ahh…" his father began, "that might not be the best idea. It'd be a long walk. Come to think of it, it's too long of a drive for you to leave…" He began to think of possibilities, but Master Ma cut him off.

"We will carry your ship."

"Car."

"We have plenty of room in our hull." He motioned to another droid which – presumably – keyed in information and the ship hummed to life. The ramp pulled up and the doors shut them inside, and Abel heard the distinct intake of breath from his mother. Looking out the window, he saw they were already high in the sky.

The ship sped away and touched down near the parking lot. Ken got out and drove the car to a more remote road where he was able to drive it right into the ship, which then sped off to the east.

.

They decided on the story that Abel had been given a wonderful opportunity to study abroad for several years. That is what they would tell their friends when Abel suddenly disappeared from their lives.

He had thought about confiding in his closest friends, but he decided there was no point. Would they even believe him? It's not like he could offer proof. For he had tried to replicate what he had done in the alien ship, but try as he might, he could not make anything move with the Force.

The worries faded from view as Abel looked up and watched as they rounded the bend onto Tulip Lane and pulled into the first house on the right.

Home.

The white two-story house had seen better days: its burgundy shudders faded from the years in the sun, leaves in the gutter, webbed cracks in the driveway, ankle high grass bloated from the summer rains and a garden so unkempt, there was no telling where the flowering shrubs ended and the weeds began. But it was home.

Abel glanced to his left at the Jedi Master staring straight ahead, his even breathing blowing out his mask like Darth Vader. So cool, so calm…so eerie.

Abel's dad parked and, picking up whatever they could carry on the first load, they made their way to the door.

Everything was as they had left it: the couches in their normal formation, sheet music on the piano, pens exploding out of the junk drawer… Then the Jedi Master walked in through the door, removing his hood, his angry red skin and metallic breathing clouding the entranceway.

Their cat, who had immediately started begging for food on their arrival, suddenly streaked away from this intruder. The master held out his hand. The cat turned back and tentatively sniffed. Then she walked calmly back and rubbed up against his hand.

"Wow," Lilly said, "she usually just hisses at strangers, and she never lets them pet her."

The cat started to purr.

Abel shook his head.

The family didn't really know what to do with the Jedi who sat stoically at their counter. Any attempt at polite conversation seemed silly. For the most part, he was content to observe, probably noting the similarities and differences in their culture that he could mention in his report. He looked out the window.

"Is it usually so hot and humid here?"

Oh God, they were talking about the weather.

They continued to answer his questions about their planet, and even showed him the _Star Wars_ movies they had talked about. He made little comment on these. In the evenings, he returned to his ship which they had hidden in a nearby park that was never used.

One evening before leaving for his ship, he made the announcement.

"I will be leaving your planet tomorrow. If you would like to train to become a Jedi, you must come with me," he said, staring at Abel. He nodded, then whisked out the door.

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It was late by the time he finally trudged up the stairs to go to bed. As he was about to switch off his light, he noticed his sister's was still on. He poked his head in her room and saw her curled up, but still awake, staring blankly.

"I don't want you to go."

She was going into her freshman year of high school, and she had been looking forward to being in the same school as her older brother again. Now she wouldn't even been on the same planet.

Abel sat on the edge of her bed and leaned down to give her a big hug.

"I know, I don't really want to either."

"Then don't."

"But could I really do that?"

She shrugged. Then she smiled slyly. "I just can't imagine you actually having the Force. Using a lightsaber." She laughed like a hyena. "You're gonna be so bad!"

"Hey!" But he was laughing too.

"You can't even win a swim race, how are you gonna fight bad guys? You probably won't –" But then she cut herself off and a shadow crossed her face. She curled up tighter.

"Look," Abel began, "I probably won't even face that many bad guys. There're probably different types of Jedi. Maybe I'll be like a…researcher or something."

"Or a janitor." He hit her.

"It's true though, I've been trying to use the Force ever since we got back, and nothing's happened."

"Well, that's normal, isn't it? The Jedi said the Force was…weak here. I wonder what that means, anyway." They both thought on it.

Abel looked out his sister's window. He remembered the two of them – it must have been three years ago – watching their father as he set up his first beehive. He had suddenly developed an obsession with bees when they had visited their (at the time) new friends, the Gislis, who had been cultivating them for years. Their mother, of course, had been dead set against it, but she relented when she realized that it would at least get her husband outside every once and a while. And besides, maybe it would help her flowers actually grow. And it did just that. Soon enough, they had a healthy crop of bees and blossoms, and their backyard which had only ever been a tangle of brambles encasing a swamp was buzzing with life and color. It was still a tangle, but at least now a more pleasant one. But Abel wasn't thinking of any of that when he looked out the window, but on the day that their father first set up his hive; his sister and he had watched for over an hour, secretly waiting for their father to bring out the bees and end up stung through his own ineptness. Their mother found them with their little heads sticking out the window like peas in a pod and informed them that he was only setting up the hive; the bees weren't even there yet. But without missing a beat, Lilly replied, "Yes they are; Daddy said he'd just keep them in the garage until he was ready." The two of them watched, wily grins on their faces, as Lilly lie provided them with the promised afternoon entertainment.

Lilly sighed, knocking Abel out of his reverie. "You'll be fine, Abel. You always are."

She rolled over to face the wall.

Abel rose creaking from the bed, then Lilly whispered, "I'll miss you."

He turned and saw her little hand outstretched. He took it and squeezed it. Then he reached over and pecked a kiss on her cheek. "I'll miss you too, Lee-lee. Good night. Love you." Then he returned to his own room for a night of restless sleep.

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Abel said his goodbyes with his family and there were many hugs and promises. After all the questioning during the previous days, the actual parting was surprisingly easy. He left his family and walked with the Jedi master to their purring ship, ready to take them on a long journey. As he started to ascend the ramp, he turned and stared wistfully at the land. This was his planet, his world, and he was its ambassador, its son. He knelt to touch the earth one more time. The dirt slipped through his fingers.

As he was climbing the ramp, Ma turned around and said, "It really is beautiful, this land of yours. What is it called again?"

"Earth," Abel said. "It's called Earth.

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Rocky dirt churned under foot as he strode to the long tent. The desert landscape was only perceptible by the open hollow wind which blew in from the west; it was in the deep of night, and the suns would not be up for another four hours at least.

Sand swirled around his tattered cloak. Fires in small braziers lit the path every thirty steps, and it was by one of these that a passerby got a glimpse of him. The little one started and nodded, " _Elrohai_ ," then scurried off.

He made no move to acknowledge it; he kept his head down and bared his teeth at the darkness.

The path climbed up and up, and only the _thud-thud-thud_ could be heard in the gloom. The stars wrapped the sky in cold light.

A sentry guarded the night, one of the four made to stand vigil; the bare feet and iron-clad chest stood still. The people would guard the long tent.

By the time he reached the gateway, the sentry had long known him to be coming.

" _Elrohai_ ," the sentry nodded. " _Mäagye adruus_."

The man's brow furrowed.

" _Taka_."

" _Gwethíni dëeligros_ ," the sentry replied.

The man frothed with anger; the sentry could see it but would not relent. Death would come first.

" _Nkala mí_."

Another figure came to the door, perhaps the butler judging from the threadbare spun of their robes. But they were too undone, their brittle hair too long and unkempt, their demeanor too grounded to be a mere servant.

The sentry stood at attention.

"What is it, _Elrohai_?" the old one rasped. "Why wake you the night?"

But the man had collapsed.

The old one bent low to help, but the man shook him off.

"I'm alright."

The old one's hand touched his shoulder. "Is it your leg?"

The man swatted with his cane. "It's not my leg." The man gnashed his teeth.

"Then…" The old one glanced at the sentry and nodded. The sentry went inside the long tent. "…is it your head?"

The man paled into silence.

The wind wove through the old one's whiskers.

"The dreams are…if I could just be allowed in –"

"It cannot be."

"Agh!" The brazier burst into flame. "Then get them out some other way!"

"It cannot be in such ways."

The man grabbed his head in his hands and spun, knocking the flame from the cauldron into the night air. The flames bloomed into the sky, echoing the scream of the tormented soul.

As the man subsided into sobs, the old one's hand gripped his shoulder: "This name you were given, _Elrohai_ , is not only a name for your state; amongst the people, a 'cane' is not only a crutch, but a tool of power. You must learn."

 _Elrohai_ looked to where he knew the old one's face to be, and though he could not see, he perceived.

"To walk into the Force is to walk into fire."

The eyes of _Elrohai_ burned. "Deadly without power."


	2. Chapter 2: Basic Training

A/N

Pronunciation Guide:

And = like the English word

Tiloa = teel-OH-ah (just because the "ah" in unstressed does not mean it becomes a schwa aka. "uh")

Kyrana = keer-AH-nah

Lena = LAY-nah; IPA [leina]

Lasse = lahss

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New Concept

The Ray

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 **Chapter 2: Basic Training**

.

Ma wasted very little time in beginning his teaching. Sadly for Abel, it was all language. "You cannot learn if you cannot first understand," he had said. Personally, he found that statement a little illogical by itself, but he let it go. Once they had a hyperlane fully constructed, Ma said this trip between Earth and the Jedi home world of Tython would only take two Earth days, but because it was still so new, it would likely take them about a week.

"Which will give us more time to improve your language skills." Abel found Basic to be a rather easy language to learn, considering it was literally an alien language. He did have the assistance of the translator earpiece which functioned like a mini translator droid, directly translating Basic to English directly into his ear. This is how Ma was able to converse with them so easily. But still, Able thought he was progressing rapidly beyond his normal ability. After learning about the past tense, Abel brought this up with Ma.

"It is possible that it is easier for you because it is a human language," the Jedi said. "While I do not understand the exact circumstances of Earth-humans to the others, it is clear that you still share many similarities. It is also most likely easier than you would expect because of Basic's simplicity: it has been synthetically altered several times to make it more orderly. And thirdly, you are a Jedi, and as such possess far more mental ability than most."

 _That last bit had never helped me before…_

"Now _foscus, etsala, duven_ , repeat…"

As Abel lay down to sleep, he couldn't help but still wonder if this was real. Yes, it looked like stars were whizzing past the window, and yes, droids were speaking in strange tongues, and yes, that alien had just closed the door without touching it, but… It is an easy thing, to leave your world. All he had to do was walk a couple steps. Leaving your worldview behind, now that's a much bigger thing.

.

Ma also instructed him, of course, in the fundamentals of the Force. "Most of the students with whom you will be studying at the Academy have already mastered these basics…but it is of no consequence." He let this hang as Abel looked up quizzically. "Some Jedi have spent their entire lives studying the ways of the force, only to move a teacup. Others, like Luke Skywalker, find the flow of the Force quickly and reach untold heights. Do not worry about your skills; what is meant to be will be." Suddenly, Abel's anxiety, which had already been throbbing in the background, came to the forefront.

"Do you mean to say that I will be entering the Academy with others who have been practicing for years?"

"It is either that, or introduce you to the beginners, most of whom are eight to ten years old. Either way, your situation will be uncomfortable in the beginning. But a Jedi must be willing to accept adversity, especially in the classroom. For if one cannot accept it in the classroom…" Abel was starting to find Ma's pregnant pauses quite annoying. He sighed.

"Yeah, fine, put me with the experts." Ma made a scratching noise that he took for laughter.

.

With only one more day aboard the ship, Abel and Ma turned to a discussion of the galaxy and its peoples. "Your movies were fairly accurate in its portrayal of the galaxy," Ma said. They had brought all six with them on the journey. "But you will be learning in much more detail about our galaxy in your classes at the Academy." Abel blurted out a question.

"Wait, what species are you?" For some reason, it felt like an almost invasive question. Ma, however, seemed to take it in stride.

"I am of the people called Kel Dor and we come from the planet Dorin. I grew up there until I was discovered by a Jedi named Karog Ho when I was thirteen, ten in human years, and I have only been back once, to solve a rare dispute amongst my people." Ma grew pensive after that and Abel decided not to press. Though he did think of another question.

"Why are all the planets in the galaxy so peaceful?" Ma looked at him strangely and let out another hacking laugh.

"You have seen your movies, haven't you? We are far from peaceful."

"No, that's not what I meant." Abel tried to fix his words. "It's just…on my planet, we are split into so many different nations and religions and cultures, and the idea of one united planet of one united people is so…alien." He laughed at himself. "Are most planets in the galaxy so united?"

"It is true that most are…though most have been under Galactic influence for thousands of years and have had to learn unity. But yes, I have rarely seen a planet so fractured as yours."

They lapsed into silence, both pondering their worlds. Ma was right; the galaxy was far from peaceful. But if he could learn how other planets had fared, perhaps there was hope for his.

.

By the time they touched land on Tython, Abel felt that he had a vaguely adequate grasp of the language. At least, it wasn't any worse than his Spanish. It was his grasp of the Force that worried him. After the success of his first day, he had since failed to move the littlest crumb. Ma has assured him early on that the strange effects of planet Earth would probably still linger on him, but lately he too seemed a little dismayed. Now Abel was starting to doubt that he had ever moved the cup, and that maybe Master Fenn had moved it himself. He was not of the Force. He was of Earth, an anomaly in the universe, a place dead of divinity.

They disembarked: and the world was alive. It seemed as if everything, each iridescent tree, every leaf of grass and all the kernels of the ground breathed. It was a gentle push and pull, like a great wind blew through the world which swayed in the breeze. The trees were like those of the west; great patriarchs of the land. The grass appeared as if at dawn, sprinkled with dew, and as Abel reached down to touch the stalks, he found them soft and silky, not sharp, even against the grain. As Abel looked into the deep forest, he felt the force of the planet wash over him and he began to breathe deeply. _Does this planet have extra oxygen?_ He felt a gentle pressure every time he inhaled, and a lightness with every exhale. And the air even tasted sweet.

"Come," Ma said as he started to the right. Abel again had to stop and stare. He saw several beings clad in brown robes winding their way through sparsely populated trees, but above them, stretching into the sky, was a great tower set upon a mountain. The tower was like the trees. Abel hurried to catch up to the master.

As the pair strode through the wood, Abel noticed several smaller buildings strewn throughout, reminding him of a summer camp. He felt the gaze of the other Jedi (he assumed), but it didn't feel harsh, nor spiked with wonder. It was more like the detached gaze of watching a microwave: something to look at to pass the time, and unsure of whether or not it will be ready. _I'll probably need another thirty seconds_ , Abel thought. _Always another thirty seconds_.

After ascending a narrow walkway with several switchbacks, Ma and Abel emerged into a clearing. Opposite them lay the tower, which now Abel could see was hardly just a tower. It was a whole complex, _a temple, most likely_ , though it looked strange. The lower levels looked old, ancient even, with ivy-clad walls crumbling away. The upper levels looked much newer, built with a blue-tinged stone like ice. The effect was rather jarring.

They headed for the main building ahead, passing into a courtyard flanked by smaller towers. The central tower resembled the mountain behind it, with a slightly rounded top gracefully expanding downward into a dome. As they padded across the stone, a figure caught Abel's eye: one of those aliens from the Mos Eisley cantina (you know, the one that looks like a tongue) was exiting one of the doors on a side building. The figure held a brilliant orange flower in their hand, and the flower was singing. At least, that's what it sounded like. Abel faltered for a second, staring at the alien with the singing flower. The figure caught his eye, smiled, and spirited away. Ma stopped and turned to follow Abel's gaze and saw nothing.

"Abel." At first, Abel continued to stare, but eventually turned away. They climbed a set of stairs and entered through the similarly shaped grand doorway. They made their way through a series of abbey-like hallways until they reached the back of the tower. Behind the building lay a garden, even greener than the forest they had left behind. And in this garden sat a solitary Jedi.

"Master Yul," said Ma in Basic, "this is the initiate I told you about." Master Yul slowly turned his head and looked to Abel. After appearing to decide something, he struggled to stand up, and, with the help of a walking stick, hobbled over to the pair. Abel thought he had a serious Yoda vibe about him.

Or at least he would have if not for his height. The Jedi master towered over him, about as tall as an elephant, and he lumbered like one, too, his thick tail trailing behind him. The crown of his head arched back like a dorsal fin, while his chin filed downward to a point. His long neck and sloping posture reminded Abel of a turtle.

"Abel Lasse," he said, holding out his hand. Abel stared up at it blankly. "I am told the custom where you come from is to shake hands during a greeting?" His voice was raspy, but kind. Abel shook his hand. For a moment, _a little too long of a moment_ , Abel thought, the Jedi continued to stare at Abel fondly, as if he were a long lost sibling whom he was remembering. "I am Master Yul," he said slowly. His gaze wandered from Abel, perhaps lost in thought. "I teach all the Jedi, here at the academy. I even taught Master Fenn once," he said smiling. "And she was no easy task." Master Fenn stared at him impassively, but Abel realized something: Master Ma was female? _Oh_.

Master Yul's gaze returned to Abel. "Tell me, Abel Lasse," he said, suddenly serious. "Do you feel that you belong here?" Abel was taken aback by such a question and said the only thing he knew.

"How can I know that? I hope so." Master Yul nodded, but then prodded.

"Why do you hope so?" Again, Abel thought.

"Because…because, well you're Jedi!" he exclaimed, fumbling for words. "You are the good guys who represent the good in the world, right? You _make_ good in the world."

"Move that rock," the master said quickly, pointing to a small, fist-sized rock at Abel's foot. Abel opened his mouth as if to protest, then shrugged. _Whatever, if the master wanted to fail him right away, so be it._ Abel steadied his breathing as best he could and focused all he could on his surroundings, on his feet melting into the ground, on the air across his skin, on his breathing. Stretching out his hand, he felt the energy in his hand fly to connect to the rock and he lifted up.

The rock sat flat on the ground. It did not move.

"No matter," the Jedi master intoned. "It is no matter. You will see in time that it is no matter." And he lumbered back to his space in the garden and resumed his contemplation. As Abel turned back with Ma toward the building, Master Yul was smiling contentedly.

.

"So let's welcome our newest initiate, Abel Lasse." There was a light smattering of applause as Abel flashed a halfhearted smile and sat back down.

Last night, Ma had shown him to his lodgings, a simple room, dorm-style, in one of the smaller buildings around the plaza. Ma had to return to the council for "Jedi business," but told him to be at his class at 9:30 in classroom "394" in "Wing B" of "the complex." So naturally, Abel left his room at 8:45 in the morning to hunt around for this room and managed to get to the room with twenty-one minutes to spare, which he spent awkwardly hanging around the door, pretending to walk purposefully in a direction when someone happened by, until his other classmates rolled in. By 9:29, no one had appeared, so rather than risk being late, he decided to risk the awkwardness of sitting in an empty classroom waiting for each wondering face to see a stranger sitting there.

What Abel saw astounded him; it looked just like a normal classroom. O.K., the desks were flat screens like computers, and the seats actually looked comfy, and the walls were peppered with more screens rather than corkboards, but the setup was the same. Twenty or so chairs and desks sat facing a main desk and screen for a teacher, with the desks arranged in five columns. Abel picked a desk somewhat in the middle and sat down. _It really is just like starting a new school_.

After what felt like an hour, and around the time that Abel was starting to think he got the wrong classroom, a blue elephant walked in the room and sat down in the front left corner seat, looking down at his hands. Abel looked up, expecting the figure to engage with him, but he sat facing forward. After a few minutes of making sure he wasn't seeing pink elephants, he decided to tackle the elephant in the room.

"Umm…hi. I am Abel." He waited. "I am new and I think I am in your class." The blue figure turned around timidly, looking at the floor.

"Lev." He turned back around and said no more.

 _Right_ , Abel thought, _enough of that_ , and lapsed into silence just as another figure came swaggering into the room. Abel immediately recognized the species as the Kit Fisto-one, the Nautolan. He (or she) strolled over to a seat in the back and flopped on it like a throne. Abel continued to face forward, with the recent interaction with (Lev?) fresh in his mind. He finally tilted his head to the side to glimpse the new stranger. The green guy was looking back at him with an easy smile on his face. He quickly jerked his head, as if to say "'sup," and continued smiling. Abel gave him pained forced smile and rotated back the other way.

A Cerean male (another one he remembered from his lessons with Ma) tiptoed through the door and made to sit next to the Nautolan. Abel heard him whisper, "Who's that?" "No idea." "What, you didn't ask?" Silence. "Idiot." "Hello, there." Abel turned around again.

"Hi, I am Abel."

"I am Zek, and this nerf herder is And. From where do you come?"

"Ah…Earth. It was only…" – Abel thought of the word – "made a week ago." Zek looked confused.

"Discovered?"

Abel mentally kicked himself. "Yes, dis-cov-ered. Sorry, I'm still learning Basic." Zek waved him off, but then his eyes bugged out to And's level.

"So you are new to everything?"

"Well, not everything…"

But before he could elaborate further, a girl strode into the room. She was the first human Abel had seen since leaving home. She had long brown hair and was quite pretty. She took a seat in the front row and began efficiently taking out her materials and laying them on her desk, while keying information on the surface of the desk. Hardly having finished, she whipped around and eyed Abel.

"Hello, my name is Lena Morava. What is your name?" Before Abel could answer, And interrupted him.

"His name is Abel, and no, he doesn't have a family member in the Senate, no, he doesn't like TFT, and no, he doesn't want to join your study club." Lena stared piercingly at And and flared her nostrils, then whipped back around.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later," And whispered.

Next, a cheerful girl with an interesting headdress came bounding in who introduced herself as Puli, who was then quickly followed by a quintessentially alien-looking guy who And called "Odo," and a human male named Kay. The next student, an alien with blue and white striped horns, made their way to the back with And.

"Abel, this is Tiloa; Tiloa, Abel." They nodded at each other. "Apparently Abel is new to everything." Again, Abel rolled his eyes. "Really!" she exclaimed. "Who found you? Where do you come from? Wait, you are human right?" But Abel was barely able to stammer out a response until the door opened for a final time for the teacher. Abel could tell just by the aura exuded by her. The alien quickly keyed in information to her desk and turned to Abel. "Initiates, we have a new student today. Please come up, Abel Lasse."

.

Abel had to stand the agony of everyone watching him as the teacher, who introduced herself as Mea Kloop, described his situation. He could sense their disappointment upon realizing they had a complete novice in their midst, and he didn't think it was a Jedi sense. Abel avoided their eyes by staring blankly at the blank back wall. Once she finished, he took his cue to sneak gratefully back to his seat as the door opened for an unexpected time. Rather than creeping in like he would have done, she floated in as if on a cloud. Her eyes lingered on Abel as they passed each other, but she soon looked forward and sat next to Lev. Abel finally found his seat after knocking into a couple desks and sat down, red faced.

"Now, because we have a new initiate I hope you will all forgive me for returning a little to the basics," Master Kloop spoke. Abel thought he heard a sigh escape from Lena. "Can someone tell me why we study what we study?"

No one spoke until finally And reluctantly threw up his hand. "As Jedi, it is our duty and our oath to grow in wisdom, which is in turn grown from knowledge." He spoke as if reciting from a textbook, which, for all Abel knew, he was doing. "To help the world, we must know the world. Healing starts with understanding." For all of his blasé delivery, And still leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, And, nicely phrased. As Jedi, you will…"

"You have to know how to speak their language," And whispered to Abel. "Just make anything up and insert words like 'wisdom' and turn a phrase or two, and you'll be fine. Even if you are new," he said, winking. Abel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well I cannot Basic speak much." And chuckled.

"Nah, you'll do fine." Not wanting to miss too much on his first day, Abel turned his attention back to Master Kloop. As he frantically copied notes on his desk, he couldn't help but smile. He would normally have been waiting to start his college career as a history major. But here he was, copying down the history of the entire galaxy. _And that's no small task_ , he thought to himself.

.

"Hey, new guy," And called after him. The class had let out and people were filing past Abel as he nursed his sore wrist. He hoped there was an easier way to take notes. "Want to come with us to get lunch?" Tiloa and Zek were following behind him. "Yeah!" said Tiloa, "C'mon, we'll show you." She grabbed Abel's hand and started walking down the hallway. _OK, then._ They took a couple turns and eventually ended up in a large cafeteria. All in all, pretty normal. Well, except for the droids dishing out the food. And turned to Abel.

"You do have money, right? Here, just give me a hundred credits and I'll buy it for you." Abel stuttered, realizing he only had twenty dollars and certainly no credits.

"And, shut up," Tiloa said. "Don't pick on the new kid. Of course, it's free," she said to Abel. "And just has a little side project going on and _apparently_ he has no qualms stealing money to help pay for it from innocent bystanders."

"Hey! I was just teasing," And laughed as Tiloa smirked at him.

They got their food from the counter, which had a wide variety of food for many different species, including a normal platter of what looked like rice and chicken (thank god). But Abel didn't say a word until they got their drinks.

"Blue Milk!" Abel yelled in English, his eyes going wide. "Ahh!" The others turned to him with raised eyebrows.

"Wait," Tiloa asked, "do you know about it? Do you have it where you come from?"

"Well…I will try to tell you." So Abel explained (and mimed) to them about the _Star Wars_ movies and all the information his planet seemed to have gathered about the real galaxy in the guise of fiction. After And complained for several minutes about Abel's description of Jar Jar Binks ("I mean, c'mon, why would a Jedi have ever hooked up with that guy?"), Zek grew pensive.

"It is quite strange, though," he said, twisting his fork on his plate. "I wonder how your people came to know this and why no word of your existence ever made its way to the Union and the Jedi. Even more strange is that you are a human."

Abel looked himself over. "I don't know, I'm actually at peace with that aspect."

"No, I mean how humans came to inhabit your planet, and with such integration with the local flora and fauna. How long have your people existed?"

Abel had enough trouble parsing through Zek's bigger words (he only just learned the language after all), with also trying to remember science-y facts. "Oh…I don't know, the planet is to be a couple billion years old, I think the dinosaurs were a couple hundred million years ago…I maybe think people a hundred thousand years ago…" At this point Abel was mostly talking to himself. "Maybe a million years? I don't know."

"Hm…" Zek lapsed into silent thought. And looked around, waiting for someone to say something, then decided to plunge ahead.

"Well, that was fun. So, when are we going to watch those movies? I want to see how they portray Kit Fisto." He looked at Tiloa. "I wonder if they'll bother to include your ancestor. She barely did anything anyways."

"She did more than your historical crush; at least she actually survived the Purge." Putting two and two together, Abel looked up.

"Wait, Ahsoka?" And groaned.

"Ha! See, I knew they'd remember her. Tiloa Tano, at your service," and she bowed dramatically, dipping her head tails in her food. "I'm not actually descended from her, but my great-great-grandfather was her brother."

"But she's the first one in her family since Ahsoka to exhibit force abilities, so Tiloa thinks she's her heir or something."

"No I don't, I just have an appreciation for my family history, and its connection to the galaxy."

"I have an appreciation for history; I just don't have delusions of grandeur." Tiloa shook her head, staring at him icily. And decided to change the subject.

"So far we haven't been very good hosts. Let's go show Abel around the farm."

.

The four left the cafeteria and emerged into the courtyard with the great castle/temple building to their left. They headed right, towards the front lawn and the outer forest. And led the way with Tiloa skipping behind him, and Zek took up the rear while examining something on his device. On the lawn was a class of initiates who were practicing lifting balls with the Force. Dressed in comfortable gray suits, they looked to be several years younger than Abel. One child had started levitating their friend until the master caught them. And Abel couldn't even move a pebble.

"This," shouted And, "is the Field. It is often used for teaching Force techniques, from combat to contemplation, and it also helps magnify the wonder of the Temple when you stand at the far end so it will look great for advertisements."

"He's just joking," Tiloa said over her shoulder. "Besides, the Academy would hardly have to advertise even if they did accept just anyone. But I could see the appeal of making it look imposing for the Union."

"What Union?"

"Oh, I guess you wouldn't know that. After the rebellion against the Empire, there was another series of wars with a lot of different names for the ruling bodies, but that by the end of it, the galaxy was united under the title 'Galactic Union.'"

"Hmm, doesn't sound especially…centralized."

"It isn't really," said Zek. "People had enough of a strong center after the Old Republic and the Empire and then the Sith Empire. So the Union mostly mediates between conflicts and ensures the common economic community. It shares a lot of power with the sectors and their Sectorial Councils and Governors."

 _Sounds familiar_ , thought Abel. _Perhaps Earth's humans really are connected_.

"Alright, enough politics," said And. They had entered the forest which was interspersed with buildings, some small enough to be called shacks, and others that might have housed a football field. "The masters often use some of these buildings for classes, especially ones related to combat. The smaller cabins are for meditation, or reading, or drinking…" He let that sit a little as he winked at Tiloa.

There were more students in the woods. One was literally in a tree, trying to climb with only one hand, aided by the Force. Another was bent over a small bush and seemed to be whispering to it, reminding Abel of the figure he had seen yesterday with the flower.

"Are any flowers there singing?" And looked at him strangely and barked.

"Are there any singing flowers? Ah, not that I'm aware of. There's a plant on Kashyyyk that seems to sing when wind blows through it, but it's more of a bush, really –"

"Why do you ask?" inquired Zek.

"Nothing, just that I a Jedi yesterday saw, a master I think, and he had a flower…" Abel trailed off, feeling stupid.

"A master, you say?" said Tiloa as the ground began to slope and they were forced to hop down a set of rock-stairs. "If they're a master, we would probably know them. What did they look like?"

"Uhh…I don't know how to describe them without sounding…racist," said Abel sheepishly as And let out another bark. "Giant head like a tongue. Long, thin arms and legs."

Tiloa, who had been in the lead, stopped. "Master Iril?" She looked at And, confused. "What would he be doing here?"

"Dunno." On seeing Abel's questioning look, he explained, "Master Iril is on the Jedi Council, I think the oldest member actually, and he usually stays holed up in the Ossus Temple. That's the seat of the Council. He's known as a recluse. Weird that he would come all this way and be so sneaky." And quieted, lost in thought. "Oh, and by the way, he's an Ithorian."

"Yes, that's how we know it must be him," said Zek. "He's the only Ithorian Jedi, and non-Jedi are not allowed in the Temple grounds."

They remained silent the rest of the way down until they reached the landing area where Abel had first arrived. They moved past the hanger bay as Tiloa described the ships they had, and they visited the Crystal Lake, whose waters sparkled from the sun and were so clean to be drinkable. It was the purest water Abel had ever tasted, even a little sweet. Several initiates were practicing near the water's edge or on the island in the middle where they fought and one after another got pushed into the lake. They turned left and followed the river to a great waterfall whose arc began near the tower of the Temple. Some students were trying to stop the flow of water, and one of them actually managed to do it until they let out a whoop of jubilation and it all came crashing down. They made their way back to the plaza and And pointed out what he had already realized: "left building, classes and cafeteria, right building, bedrooms" and they continued toward the Temple. Abel had been inside before with Master Fenn, and he told And so, but he shook his head sadly.

"But you haven't been to the _Temple_ ," he said, resting his hand on a twenty-foot door. "Just, make sure to shield your eyes a little." Abel was about to ask what that meant when And pushed the doors open and light flooded his eyes.

.

The light streamed through windows from every angle, especially from the tower which was paved with thousands of reflectors to create a cacophony of light. Pillars, unadorned, but graceful encircled the room, supporting upper levels the wound up and up. The ground was simple, with comfortable chairs and cushions dotting the arena-sized floor. The only structure that seemed adorned lay at the opposite end of the circular room. Abel cautiously approached it, noting the slight spring in his step as opposed to the hard feel of polished stone that he would have expected in a cathedral. He also quickly realized that the dazzling light subsided to an ethereal calm in the center of the room. The one difference was the object ahead, which was like a prism, as large as a human, with four rectangular faces that filed to a point at the top and bottom. It let out its own spiral of light as it slowly rotated around its axis created by the upper and lower points. Abel stared at it.

"Amazing, isn't it," said Zek.

"Yes…what is it?" said Abel, keeping his eyes on the spinning crystal.

"We don't really know. It was here when we returned to Tython and we built the Temple around it. It seems to be a relic of Jedi past. We call it the _Ray_. Most masters use it as a teaching tool, saying that we may find out own interpretation of its meaning, its symbol…its power."

"Is it, like, hypnotic?"

"No, don't worry; it doesn't have a direct effect on you. At least, not usually." He glanced at the others. "But it does have certain properties. It appears different colors to each beholder at different times. Like right now, I see mostly blue emanating from its heart." Abel saw a reddish-pinkish color, though it kept flickering in and out. "But more importantly, no one can seem to move it with the force. Many have tried, but few have succeeded. The best any of us have ever done has been to change the direction of the spin, and only masters have ever done that. Then other times, it changes of its own accord."

"So why this place of honor when no one understand its purpose can."

"Well…" said Zek, "I think that is kind of the point. It is a manifestation of the Force. It does not always have a point."

"Technically," said Abel, "it has two."

"Exactly," said Zek with a smile, watching the Ray spin and spin.

.

The sun was low and the sky was a simmering orange when they left the Temple. Abel spotted a figure leaning over the fountain in the center of the courtyard who was dipping her hand in the water. He remembered her from class.

"Hey," he said in an undertone, "Who is that? She never got introduced to me." And saw where he was pointing.

"Oh, Kyrana. Yeah, she's…interesting. A little standoffish, but pretty smart."

"Pretty smart?" laughed Tiloa. "You just think she might pass you in the rankings. She's the youngest one in our class. She even almost bested me yesterday in our bout," she huffed.

"Twi'lek," Zek said, sensing Abel's question. "And she is not so smart, I have seen her scores. She mostly gives off that aura of superiority." Tiloa eyed him.

"Oh, and you don't?"

"Only because it is true."

"Ugh, why I'm even friends with you two."

"Because you're just as obsessed with being the best as we are," And said, elbowing her.

"Well, except for Lena."

"Uhhh, no…" And flopped on one of the benches in a garden nook of the courtyard. "I don't want to think about her."

"Why," asked Abel as if preparing for a quiz, "do we not like her?"

"OK, so, we joke about being the best," began And as Zek rolled his eyes. "Well yeah, we mean it too, but just stop. But Lena takes it really seriously. She may be really friendly in public, but everything is just a competition with her. If any of us ever went to the dark side, it would be her."

"Well," said Zek, "I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"Zek's always nursed a soft spot for her," And told Abel amidst Zek's protestations. Abel looked down.

"Now I feel kind of sad for her," Abel started, but And cut him off.

"No, don't go feeling sorry for her. All of us here, every one of us is wickedly smart. We all care about learning and all that. She just… Look, remember what she did to you last year?" he asked Tiloa

"Oh, yeah. We had our yearly tests, just for the masters to get a feeling for how we were progressing. You know, no pressure. But in our combat class, I actually beat Lena in our mock lightsaber duel. As you can expect, she was not particularly happy. But I couldn't sleep at all that night and so I did terribly on my test in Empirics the next day. Now I can't prove that Lena gave me something to keep me from sleeping, but I know she did. She even asked me how I slept." The bench shook a little as Tiloa frowned.

"Right, well, I'll take your word for it about her." Just then Kyrana got up from the fountain and made to the dorms. As she passed, Abel called out.

"Hi. My name's Abel." He tried a little smile. She looked at him, almost calculatingly, and seemed to decide something. Smiling very faintly, she responded.

"Hello, I am Kyrana."

"I like the braids on your…hair. They look cool." Immediately, Abel realized that was a mistake, though Kyrana did not move at all. She spoke coldly.

"These are my lekku, not my 'hair.' And my stekka are not 'cool,' they are my connection to my family. I do not appreciate being mocked." And she left. Abel looked sullenly toward his friends.

"Whoops. I guess that was a mistake."

"Yeah, you could say that," said And. "Some Twi'leks can be touchy about their lekku and Kyrana can be touchy about…well, everything really."

"Don't worry though," Tiloa assured him. "I'm sure it will all be fine."

"I think it may be time to turn in," said Zek, rising. "It's getting dark."


	3. Chapter 3: Found in the Forest

A/N

Pronunciation Guide:

Djelsic = JEL-sitch [ʤelsɪʧ]

Mein (Prada) like the state Maine

Yulier = YOO-lee-air

.

New Concept/Word

Yulier

* * *

Chapter 3: Found In The Forest

Abel fell into a routine. Every day was a different class; but only one, which was a nice change from the seven that he was used to. His second day was with Master Androv Djelsic, a Givin who taught Empirics. This class was basically math, science, computers, and engineering rolled into one; so, not Abel's strong suit. Master Djelsic did not have Master Kloop's (who was a Rodian, Abel later realized) sensibilities and so Abel was plunged right into analyzing probable hyperspace vectors of different types of starships. The third day was Meditation with the female Iktotchi Master Wolketna Yolin, who often launched into long and cryptic monologues, leaving some (And) nodding off. Thel Tul-Tik, a male Pau'an, taught Movement with graceful and precise execution and expected the same of his students who more often than not were lucky to even get their rock to fly in the right general direction. In Abel's first day of Mediation, a class using the Force to connect to another being, both to influence and to heal, the male Yarkora master, Mein Prada, had a hard time trying to undue Tiloa's "suggestion" to Lev that he was a bird. The sixth and final day was combat training with Kolika Pit, a female Ishi Tib, whose small stature and perky nature obscured her tenacity. This was perhaps the coolest part about being a Jedi, but by Abel's fourth class, he was still a disaster.

"Lasse!" Kolika Pit squeaked from across the room. Abel was splayed on his back from a particularly hard push from Tiloa, his partner for the day. Granted, she was one of the best in the class, but Kay had still managed to evade all of Abel's attacks last time.

He didn't get up. He could feel the rest of the class slowly turning their attention to his crumpled figure. If only he had landed face down, he wouldn't have to worry about his red face. Just like the previous thought, two eyes suddenly popped into his vision next to the incandescent light above.

"Are we done resting, initiate?" Abel didn't know what to say for fear of Master Pit's sharp retorts.

"Apparently not, I see, for your voice is still asleep!" Nobody laughed. "Arise, initiate," she sang. Abel achingly rose into a sitting position before dragging himself up onto his wobbly legs. Master Pit stood across from him with a jovial smile on her face, which on an Ishi Tib looked slightly hypnotic and maniacal. He knew what she wanted him to do.

"Attack me," she said, still standing in a relaxed state. Abel grimaced, staring only at his teacher and not looking (don't look!) at his classmates. After running through the preparation techniques (breathe in, orient yourself in space, ground your feet, etc.) Abel crossed one hand over the other and pushed towards the master with everything he could…and nothing. She said nothing, so he tried again. Nothing. She said nothing. He tried (did!) it again, loosening his mind into nothing, waving his hands around nothing only for nothing to happen a third time only for nobody to say anything and for him to wait around for nothing to happen and for a fourth time to have somebody, this body, to channel all things and everything, and to use all the power he could conceive of to knock this other thing back one inch (just one!), while his feet a stone and his breath a beat and his mind a still silent sea and his hands waving, twirling, winding and grinding until the final push (push!)…and nothing (nothing).

He opened his eyes, not realizing his having closed them. The first thing he noticed was the little bead of sweat perched upon the tip of his nose as if ready to fall. The second thing he noticed was the actively repressed disappointment on the faces of his classmates who looked at his feet or at the wall and the fact that the master was just as he had left her and that the master's eyes were beading into him under a furrowed brow trying to read into his mind or his soul or perhaps just trying to figure out a diplomatic way to advise the academy to delicately place this lost boy back on his home planet and focus on Jedi instead.

"Very well," she said, her voice returning to its normal clipped teacher mode. "We are finished for today. Until next class." And she quickly twisted around to collect her things, leaving Abel looking at her back.

.

Abel thought that his room was quite comfortable considering its dullness. True, the only pieces of furniture were a desk, a table, a chair, another chair, a closet, and a bed. But the desk was just like the ones in the classrooms with a computer embedded on the surface. Abel spent hours on his first break day searching everything from Alderaan (may it rest in peace) to Zabraks. While the chair adjacent to the desk was quite rigid, the other chair was almost like a bean bag chair in that it was rather amorphous and able to assume many positions, which was supposed to be good for meditating. Even the closet was interesting, sliding open efficiently at the touch of a button and housing exactly fourteen sets of identical Jedi Initiate uniforms, which were composed of simple unadorned long pants and short-sleeve shirts. There was also one set of robes for more formal occasions. All initiate uniforms were colored gray: another neutral color, but not the brown of a full Jedi. And thankfully, the bed was plain comfortable. When Abel, who had been expecting a hard ascetic bed to teach frugality or something, brought it up with Master Prada, he laughed, responding, "Sleep is the greatest friend to a Jedi. We like our beds fluffy to keep our minds sharp."

In addition to the furniture, the room itself was inviting. Rather than a harsh white, the walls were a soft tan, like sand, while the rest of the furniture also had varying shades of brown. The window, which stretched most of the length of the far wall, offered a brilliant view of the verdant valley, and it had a set of blinds to keep out the piercing afternoon sun. He also had a sunroof which filtered light gracefully through his room, seeping like osmosis to every corner rather than shining down in rays. The floor was carpeted, but more than that: with most carpets, it may be soft, but your foot soon feels the hard concrete below. But the floors of his room were like firm pillows. Again, great for meditation.

It was on these floors that Abel was to be found soon after his latest combat class. Not meditating, though, but thinking; laying down, with his head tilted sideways, resting on the backs of his hands. He had been half hoping that And would suggest doing something after the class to take his mind of his poor performance, but they trudged back to their rooms, so too did he. He was in the middle of doing one of those pity parties in which you read too much into the way Tiloa didn't talk to you on the way back, but _did_ respond to And, while Zek went off with Odo instead…when he heard what he was pretty sure was music coming from outside his door.

.

Unlike college dorms or hotels which had several levels of identical straight hallways filled with parallel doors, the bedrooms of the Jedi Academy were a mess. At least, it seemed that way to Abel. As he stepped outside his room to find the source of the music, he emerged into what seemed to be a small, circular anteroom. He proceeded to the throughway to the left and trotted up the set of stairs. The music was stronger here and seemed to be filtering down that curved ramp. This led him to another circular room, but this time it was a dead end with four doors. The music was coming from the last one.

Abel started to reach out his hand, but then thought it might be too awkward of an interaction. He was just thinking that he might stand outside for a bit to get a glimpse of the person and pretend he was lost when the door suddenly opened. It was Lev from Abel's class.

"Hi, I was…lost."

Lev just looked at him blankly, his Ortolan eyes like black orbs floating lifelessly. Simply to break the awkward silence, Abel offered, "I liked the music I heard coming from your room." Still, Lev stood there staring. "What kind is it?" Stare. "OK, then, well I'll…"

"What do you mean?" Abel, who had been backing away, turned back.

"What?"

"What kind…is it?"

"Oh, I meant, what genre? Like, who is it by?" Lev certainly looked confused now as he fidgeted. His voice was what you would call nasal in a human, and slightly muffled.

"It is music. I don't understand what you mean by 'kind.'"

"Well, it's just that where I come from, we have many types of music…from different regions, different cultures, and they have different sounds."

"All music has different sounds."

"Well, yes, but each type has a similar sound, different from the others."

"But all music has the same sounds."

Abel stopped again, and couldn't help but laugh. Lev looked down. Sensing what his laugh had meant to him, Abel hurriedly explained, "No, I wasn't laughing at you. I was…it's just funny to me how different our ideas of music are." And he gave a smile.

Lev tilted his head upward, as if trying to spy something above Abel's head. In thought? He seemed to be –

"Do you want to hear music?" Lev had spoken so softly, belying his great stature.

"…sure. Yes."

Abel followed him into his room, which was nearly identical to his own, except that Lev, who had been here far longer, had acquired several accessories and trinkets. The Jedi of today were less rigid in their outlook on possessions, so long as they never possessed you. Lev picked up one of these items, which looked a little like a periscope. He sat down on his bed, gesturing meekly for Abel to take a chair, and began to compose himself, as if getting ready to use the force. He lifted the instrument. Suddenly, Abel understood.

"Oh, you were playing the music yourself!" Lev looked at him quizzically.

"Of course…"

"Well, I just thought you could have been listening to it."

"But there was no one else in my room."

"Well," Abel hesitated, "you could have been listening through your desk." Lev drew a sharp breath.

"We do not hear music from recordings. It is…not good."

"Oh, is music…that sacred to your people?" Lev honked in laughter.

"No. It is just not music. Music must be living." As Abel pondered this, Lev put the lower part of the instrument to his mouth and began to play.

It was unearthly. It was one part violin, one part trumpet, one part the noise from switching radio frequencies and a fourth part the sound when you wind your finger around a glass edge. And it was music like Abel had never heard. There was no beat, no rhythm, no key, the melody, just a cacophony of intermingling notes sliding and zipping from lows to highs, until falling and rising beyond the range of human ears. At first, Abel felt panic. He needed to escape, it was too much at once, everything would explode…he was starting to sweat, anxious, anxious, breath coming out in perforated puffs…the sounds were whizzing, clanging bells, bombastic sirens, alerting, hurting, cascading into a crescendo… And then, Abel felt it; the beat, the rhythm, the key, even the melody. At least, he understood that there was none and yet it was music and it was beautiful. It was the music of angels, of creators weaving the fabric of the universe. Abel laid back as if to watch the stars and let the music wash over him.

Some time later, Lev finished and silence was there. The silence felt sweeter in the echoes of the music. Abel turned his head to Lev and said the only thing he could think of: "that was wonderful."

Lev looked sheepish and returned his instrument to his stand.

"How do you get music like that?"

He shrugged. "It is music, I don't know how, you mean."

"Well, the mechanics, the composing…"

"The mechanics happen simply for the makers, I do not know how. The composing…" Lev smiled. "Takes work." Abel laughed.

"You don't say? But how to you keep track of all those sounds at once? And they go so many different directions?"

"I have heard the music of humans. Is it so different? I am often confused by your music with all the notes and keys, all synchronized…"

"Well, how do you keep your music from sounding garbled?" asked Abel, remembering how he had first thought it garbled in the beginning.

"We hear it. If it sounds good, it stays. If not, we try something else." So simple. Abel didn't know how to respond, so he just shrugged.

"It took me a long time to write that." Of course.

"You wrote that?" Lev jerked his head and sat at his desk, half looking out the window. Abel sighed.

"I wish I was that disciplined and talented. I've tried to write songs before, but they always fell apart…not unlike my attempts at the Force." He laughed sardonically.

"You should not wish to be like me," Lev said quietly. Abel looked up, expecting him to continue. When he did not, Abel gently prodded him.

"You have been here only twenty-seven days. Nobody really expects you to succeed."

 _Oh, great, thanks._

"But I have been here for 3,266 days. This is nearly 9 years. Although my 16 years is equal to 15 years for a human, because of my longer lifespan and slower maturity, I am still a walking failure." Abel didn't know if he should contradict him in solidarity or keep quiet. "No one expected much from me. Ortolans usually don't make great Jedi. But my…" He cut himself off from this, remembering that he was still talking to someone.

"OK, well, you can at least actually use the Force." He turned around, hiding behind his floppy ears.

"I…I couldn't until I was 12. They…they considered for a while that maybe they had made a mistake, and that I wasn't a Jedi after all."

"They told you this?"

"No, but I knew. They had been talking to my parents…making visits…" Abel's anxiety was starting to come back to him again.

"So…what changed?"

"I don't really know. Well, I know what changed: Kyrana came." Abel had realized, of course, that Kyrana was the only one in their class who seemed to be friends with Lev. "She was only nine at the time, but she had already advanced to my class. The others in my classes were…mean. She was nice." He was lost in thought.

"But how…how did you use the Force?"

"Things moved as I slept. When I would wake up, my chair would be in the middle of the room or my desk askew. Eventually, I realized it was me using the Force while sleeping and soon I could move pebbles while awake. Of course, I haven't progressed much since. I do try, though. Even a failure keeps trying." Abel looked up.

"Well, that's it then. I'm pretty sure the definition of failing where I come from has to do with giving up. I don't think you're a failure."

The blue creature turned slowly to face Abel, his ears flopping pitifully as he tilted his head. He looked to him. "I do not think you know me well enough."

"It…it's a lot like your description of music. You said if it's not good, you try something else. Well, then the reverse must be true. By not tossing you out, you must be pretty good, like your song." Lev tilted his head thinking, once again seeming to look at something above Abel's head.

"Then you are also like your music. You say you have different types? So you are not like me or Kyrana or And. You have your own kind of song." Abel laughed at the philosophical juvenility of the comparisons, but Lev remained thoughtful.

.

The next day, Abel sat in the courtyard outside his room trying to read about Bothan politics. He soon gave up, however, in favor of watching the other initiates practice with the Force. There was Lena Morava, the queen of the class, over by the Temple in a perfect meditating pose lifting objects without lifting her eyelids. Another group of three was over by the fountain, making the water change directions. And just across the stone surface sat a little human girl of all of about nine levitating a frog. She would start levitating the frog from the ground, then just as the frog reached a little over her head, she would lose it, and it would start to hop away, only for her to catch it again with the Force and start the process over again.

Abel shifted his position and returned to his reading. _In 334 BBY, the chancellor of Bothawui began to favor Clan Khrev'an above his own in order to secure the allegiance of…_ Abel looked up again towards the great green field where he heard shouts as one initiate apparently had tried to launch another initiate into the air to catch a _yulier_ , one of the slow flying creatures native to Tython which have an innate ability to repel some minor Force attacks. The yulier evidently did not appreciate the failed attempt and flew higher, passing through the clouds. _The clan, however, was insignificant in stemming the tide of centralization…_ Down in the valley, he could see a couple of initiates trying to ride a varactyl. They were apparently very temperamental mounts and to ride one for most not-natives of Utapau required exceptional bonding via the Force. One of them had finally managed to stay on and was showing off by directing the varactyl to run across the near-vertical rock walls. Abel could hear the laughter echoing from where he sat.

Suddenly, he stood up and went inside to deposit his reading, then returned out the door and headed right towards the Temple. He passed the Temple, then passed the Temple Garden where he had met Master Yul his first day. He continued climbing through the woods, lifting himself over rocks and hiking through dense weeds. There was no path here.

 _Rock. Rock. Kicked that rock. Rock 'n roll, it rolled away. A rock that gathers no moss, or something. Yep, I don't have no moss. Nothing. Stupid, stupid, methinks. Stop, ew. Just think about… Blue and the long. Like that waterfall up there. How high? Yeah, I'd rather not, she probably. She definitely, urrrgh! Thump, thump, trudge, trudge, trudge-y trudge. The thumps on the bumps on the log. Just a bump on a log. Dirt, dust. To dust you shall return. Am I my brother's keeper? Branch askew. Perhaps a vine. Not a vin. A drunken Jedi? Ha. Blows nose. Nose goes. I must not have. Nothing. Stop it! Just. You thought wrong. A dreamcatcher, it wasn't meant. The grass is green. Catch me!_

Abel fell onto a small patch of cool grass covered in dew from the mist of the waterfall which tumbled beyond the spindle trees delving down into the depths below. Supposedly to the river to the lake. He laid back, eyes to the tree tops, where the sun was obscured; instead, a pinkish glow wafted through the forest. Again, he breathed in that Tython air, so unlike anything he had breathed on Earth; the air itself seemed living. He kept drawing breaths and he began to feel his clothes soaking up the wetness from the grass. And a fine mist flitted across his face. He yawned. He rose again, sitting up.

Before him was a single, solitary flower. At least it seemed that it was a flower, for it was mostly closed, with a hint of its orange inside peeking through. He looked at the flower. He then quickly looked around, wary of interlopers. But of course he was alone. No one would be up here. He readied himself, feeling stupid, and looked at the flower once more.

His song was hesitant. He made up melodies and words, trying to coax the flower to open up to his song. He tried to imitate the song he had heard that Master (Ithil?) sing earlier. His hesitancy was leaving him. He was singing more confidently, like he used to back home. His voice had never felt so clear, so clarion, it was drumming, it was humming and wailing and sighing and reverberating, beauty so; it was climbing, reaching its crescendo where the flower would…

The flower sat there. Unmoved.

This whole thing was stupid. He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't master the Force their way, and he couldn't seem to do it this way. He closed his eyes.

He thought about home. He would likely be back there soon. Perhaps his sister was coming home from school, the school where he used to go to. His friends would also be in school, creating inside jokes without him. He thought about them and his friends here. He would leave them too. That's how it was with these things. Your world is created anew, you have friends for that year. It is a very good year. Then things end, people leave. This new world would simply be another one gone. He thinks about his mother and his father. He thinks about his family. He thinks about home. In that world, at least, we know the Force is dead. A flower is just a flower, and grass is only grass. But they are wonderful there, he remembers. There is no Force, but there is such beauty as to make one cry. He does but a little. He feels warm as he knows. It is not so bad after all at the ending of things.

Opening his eyes, he sees the sun melting through the leaves of the trees, creating that wonderful shade of green. The sun is blazing through in brilliant streams. And the flower is awake. Abel looks around. Flowers break into blossom throughout the forest and the grasses reach upwards toward the light and the trees bend down to meet them. Things are alive and call to one another. The Force is alive here. He looks down at his hands, his own hands that brought it. Abel barks a laugh so loud that even the roar of the water cannot drown it.


	4. Chapter 4: Lost in the Forest

A/N

Pronunciation Guide:

Doryo = DOOR-yo

Levenbro, LEV-en-bro, with a flipped 'r' and rounded 'o' almost like 'oo'

.

New Concept/Word

Doryo

Orskú

* * *

Chapter 4: Lost in the Forest

.

They were in Master Prada's class and Abel could finally contribute with his new found force abilities. He had run excitedly back to tell his friends what he had found in the forest and demonstrated by waving the grass on the lawn. They were equally excited that he had finally found his connection to the Force. He was soon able to extend his connection to non-living things, like the old levitating-the-stone trick. This did not go unnoticed by the master.

"Oho! Abel, do I see that you have succeeded in reconnecting your rock?"

"Yes, master." For today's lesson, they were reuniting two halves of a rock that Master Prada had split. What may seem simple was actually quite hard, especially for a novice like Abel. You had to hold the pieces together exactly, with each grain of rock in its places, and repair them with water and the aid of the Force. While people like And and Lena had finished twenty minutes ago, Abel was pleasantly surprised to realize that he had mended his rock quicker than Lev or Odo. Odo was brilliant, especially when it came to science, but he sometimes had a hard time with these kinds of exercises. And Lev was Lev.

"Look at you, Force-user." Tiloa had sauntered over from her game of _doryo_ with And. The teachers usually encouraged games when they were done with their exercise. "Not too bad."

"Not too bad? It was perfect," Abel said, panting. Truth be told, it was a little shoddy.

"Well, you did manage to bypass the normal binding techniques nicely. I am a little jealous; you didn't have to go through that boring unit like we did." He knew she was trying to make him feel better, and he appreciated it. Still, it was true. Most of them had spent years mastering the elementals of force-using and he was having to pick up years of training as he went along. _Well,_ he thought, _not unlike Luke Skywalker on Dagobah_. He rolled his eyes at himself. _OK, bad comparison._

"C'mon," she said. "Let's go play. And's probably about to finish Kay off by now."

The other human male, Kay, sat in stern concentration facing And who was reclining on his back, eyes closed, arms folded behind, supporting his head. Between them was a board lying flat on the ground and another board perpendicular to it standing straight up, bisecting the flat board. Round pieces lay strewn across both sides of the boards, and some were even floating in mid-air. Abel thought it looked a little like Battleship…except for the floating pieces part.

"It's based off the popular game in the galaxy, but _doryo_ is a specific variant only for force-users," Tiloa explained. "While the other game is mostly a game of chance, doryonecessitates a force-user to sense his or her opponent's pieces on their board, while at the same time continuing to levitate his or her own pieces in the air. It's supposed to teach us how to split the mind in concentration and to keep it in balance." Kay moved a piece to levitate in the air.

"But what it really teaches us," And said, smiling, "is how to be a jerk to our friends." He levitated a piece into what was apparently a winning move as the board lit up and Kay moaned in frustration.

"Check-mate," Abel said.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Wanna play?" And said with a glinting smile.

"Against you? Nope."

"Oh, come one! OK, we'll play as a team against Zek, he loves losing. Zek! Get over here!" Zek was meditating under one of the trees.

"Why?"

"We need you to play a game of doryoto teach Abel, and Tiloa doesn't like losing!"

"I'm busy!"

"He's always like this, you have to coax him," And muttered to Abel. He made a little motion with his hand and Zek popped out of his seat fell forward onto his face. "See, he just needs a little push." Zek came stomping over, a sullen look on his face.

"I was at perfect peace over there until you ruined it," Zek quipped.

"No you weren't, I saw you. You kept batting away at bugs and readjusting your feet. Just cast the board."

Zek continued starring coldly at And as he lifted all forty pieces into the air, then let them fall back down naturally. Abel saw their twenty pieces land haphazardly across their bottom board. "OK," And began. "The object of the game is to get all your pieces in perfect balance on both of your boards, another way of saying that they be symmetrical at all angles." _OK, this was already weird._ "Each piece can only move one square at a time, except for the ones 'in space' which can move anywhere, but can only move to a board on their direct axis, and that counts as one move. These 'flying' pieces are used to block your opponent; they cannot move to the square that is on the same horizontal axis as your flying piece. We move first, so I would suggest moving that piece there up to the top board."

Abel found the beginning of the game exceedingly dull. Twenty moves had gone by, and And hadn't even suggested taking Zek's game-plan into account.

"Most people, even Jedi, don't have the patience for the early game. A winning game is all about the set-up, getting your pieces into a formation you think will be able to win."

"Basically," Zek interjected, "he's the only one competitive enough to care that much."

And looked like was going to object, then subsided. "True."

They continued for a little while longer until And whispered. "OK, now you should probably look and see what Zek's been up to. It's pretty pitiful, but still." Zek glanced up and made a face while Abel tried to extend his mind with the Force and 'see' his opponent's board. He tried for a minute or so and got nothing. Finally, And interrupted.

"Here, concentrate on our pieces. You know where they are, you can see them with your eyes. Learn how they feel to your mind's eye." Abel took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he lapsed again into darkness. _OK, I know we have a piece there. Where is it, where is it?_ He felt a gentle pressure, seeing (or feeling?) a small pinkish dot. Excited, he moved his gaze slowly to the left. Another pinkish dot! He began to widen his gaze, momentarily losing any sense. He calmed himself once more, then there it was: a whole array of their pieces, in space, in his mind's eye. And it was much easier to see the image that And was creating with their pieces; he saw what he was hoping to do! At least, he thought he did. He tried extending his gaze across to Zek's pieces. It was fuzzy, but he was pretty sure he knew the basic shape that Zek was going for…and it looked like he only needed two more moves!

"And," he said, flicking his eyes open. "I think he's about to win!" And laughed.

"Yeah, he thinks somehow I wouldn't notice his flying piece to the left. Such a simpleton." And levitated a piece, then Zek cautiously moved another piece, making him one move away from victory. But And had thought of this and moved his piece over to block. All at once, Zek's strategy was destroyed. From one miscalculation.

"That's always the problem with the others," And said, moving again. "They try so hard to get the perfect stratagem." Zek dropped a flying piece to the top board. "They don't realize how obvious it is." And brought another flyer over. "The whole point of this game is flexibility." Zek moved to the left. "Flexibility of the mind." And moved. "Flexibility of the strategy." Zek moved. "Flexibility as a strategy." And moved. "The point is" (Zek moved) "to not let them know" (And moved) "what you're doing" (Zek moved) "until you've won. Ah." And moved and the board glowed.

"That's all well and good to say that," Zek said, sweating. "It's a whole other thing to do it." And laughed.

.

The next day was a day Abel had been silently dreading since his awakening (that's what he had decided to call it). It was his first combat class since then. And he was determined not to make a complete fool out of himself. Not this time.

They had marched to the raised dais in the valley which was about the size of a basketball court and stood about eight feet off the ground. There they had been divided into two teams and told that the goal was to knock the opponents off the other side using the Force. _So basically just dodge ball_ , thought Abel, _just substituting balls with the Force._ What Abel had thought would be a quick game turned into a grueling affair. Most of them proved quite adept at anticipating each other's strikes or blocking them together when they struck. After the first ten minutes, Abel's team succeeded in forcing Puli off the platform, and soon pushed Kay off, as well. Abel had thought they were doing pretty good, but he had thought too soon and forgot to knock on wood. The remaining Lena, Tiloa and Zek were slippery and succeeded in isolating And, where they were able to push him off. This left Abel with only Kyrana, Odo and Lev. Kyrana and Odo had tried to spearhead a counteroffensive, but Odo overextended and ended up pushed off. Sensing they would quickly strike the exposed Lev, Kyrana whipped over to protect him, but not before he was pushed off. Abel saw that Kyrana was now completely defenseless and moved to stand over her and field attacks. To his surprise, he dodged attack after attack then suddenly let loose a torrent of the Force, creating a temporary shield between the two sides, leaving Kyrana a chance to get up. Hardly giving him a look, she skipped and danced her way across the platform, launching push after push until the other three were thrown off.

They had won, somehow. Abel hadn't looked the fool; in fact, he had pulled off some pretty great moves. Somehow. He was congratulated by his team and wholeheartedly by his opponents Tiloa and Zek; they were just so impressed. He'd even earned a small nod from Kyrana.

"So, now that you can actually fight and stuff," Tiloa said, as they strolled back from class. "You should come to our hunt tonight."

"Oh, is that still happening?" Zek asked, lazily.

"Yes! We've been trying to for months, but every time…"

"Last time was not my fault," And snapped, for Tiloa had been looking at him. He was a little short because Tiloa had been the one to push him off the edge. "How was I supposed to remember that Master Kloop had assigned us that research?"

"I don't know, maybe by actually keeping track of assignments?"

"Anyways, the time before that it was you who…"

"The point is," Tiloa said, cutting him off. "Once a month, the moon Ashla is full and during those times, _orskú_ crystals are visible in certain caves on Tython. They're sort of like Kyber crystals, very powerful for Jedi, thought don't try to make a lightsaber out of them."

"Is that what that giant floating crystal thing in the Temple is made out of?" asked Abel.

"The Ray? No that…that's something different." Tiloa was lost in thought.

"These _orskú_ crystals can be used especially as a reservoir of the Force," Zek said, picking up the thread of conversation. "It can help to open channels if you are weak or disorganized. It helps to calm and focus."

"So what, you just want to go out at night and get some crystals?"

"Yep," said And. "Again, they can only be found when Ashla is full and Bogan isn't in the sky, which happens every hundred days on Tython. We went once two years ago, but didn't find any. We've had a couple opportunities since, but our plans have fallen through, _not only by me!_ " he said pointedly at Tiloa who sniffed.

"Last time we were just traipsing along like a bunch of idiots," Zek said. "This time, though, we'll be going in with a bunch of research under our belts. We've learned where exactly the most likely places are to find them and have two particular spots in mind, based off seismic readings of the surrounding area."

"And the academy is fine with us just 'traipsing' along in the woods after dark?"

"Well…" said Tiloa. "They didn't stop us last time."

"We think it's just another 'learning experience,'" said And.

"So, will you come?" asked Tiloa energetically.

"I'll…I'll think about it."

.

The sun had set hours ago. Abel was still lying down in his bed in the darkness, watching the shadows of the trees outside creep up on the opposite wall. Every so often his comlink would buzz and a blue light would blink in the room. It had just done it again. He rolled over to face the wall.

 _We really shouldn't._

 _Does it really matter though? Like they said, the masters probably know and just don't care._

 _It sounds dumb anyways. Sneaking through the forest, late at night, for a crystal?_

 _Who cares? Just bite the bullet; go make friends._

 _I've already made friends. It's fine if we have different…interests._

 _I don't know why you're being so difficult._

 _Neither do I, really. I just don't like it._

 _If you say that you have a bad feeling about –_

 _Shut up. I didn't say that. I just don't feel like going. I need my sleep._

 _Fine, then go to sleep._

 _I'm not tired._

BANG, BANG, BANG!

The sudden knocking on his door made Abel twitch, instantly stopping his Smeagol-Gollum monologue. He got up cautiously, a little disoriented, and flipped the light on. He padded across the room and opened the door a crack.

Four figures came striding in to his room, pushing Abel out of the way.

"Fiiinally, don't you ever answer your messages?" And complained. He and Tiloa were glaring at him while Kay laughed and Kyrana hovered awkwardly in the background. "So, ready to go?" Abel still didn't know what to say.

"Where's Zek?"

"Ugh, that nerf head decided he'd rather sleep than come with us, can you imagine?"

 _Kind of._

"But I knew our new friend _Abel_ wouldn't be so boring, so I figured we'd extend a formal invitation. You ready to go…how do they say it in your language…booshwacking?"

Abel chuckled. "Close enough." Abel paused and they all looked at him expectantly. "Yeah, about this…"

"I told you 'ee would not want to come with us." It was Kyrana, of course, with her vaguely French-sounding accent. Abel made up his mind.

"No, of course I'm coming. I was just trying to get a quick nap and was still groggy from it when you guys barged in. Rude." And smiled.

"Well, we wouldn't have had to if you had just set an alarm." Tiloa shook her head and Kay motioned to the door.

"So, off we go."

"Let us away!" And proclaimed. With a flourish of And's hand, they went off into the night.

.

The forest of Tython was a different place at night. The richness of the senses from so much life that was invigorating during the day grew cloying and the gentle swell and release, the feeling of breath in the air turned eerie, a sense of watchfulness. Or maybe it was just Abel's sense that they were trespassing where they should not be. The joyous laughter and conversation which had echoed around them when they first started had fizzled into a murmur. And was leading the way, supposedly with instructions from Zek who had found the sites, and Tiloa was helping him read it. Abel found himself keeping pace with Kyrana, and looking at her, he realized something.

"Wait, why isn't Lev here? Didn't he want to come?" At first, Kyrana didn't seem to register that she had heard. But when Abel was about to repeat his question, she interrupted.

"Levenbro was not invited."

"He – wait, Levenbro?"

"That is his name."

"Oh, OK… Well, again, why was he –"

"The others, your friends, are not 'is friends, nor they, his. They would not trust him on a mission such as this."

"Oh…why?" Kyrana blew air out of her nostrils.

"They consider him clumsy and a liability. They think 'ee would awaken a Manka Cat."

"Why would they consider him a liability, but bring me along?" Abel joked.

"Why indeed?" Abel broke step a little. So that's why she's being so cold…or, colder than usual. He also wondered what that "manka cat" business was, but he wasn't about to ask Kyrana anything. He let Kyrana pass him and fell in step with Kay.

"So Kyrana mentioned something about a 'manka cat.' Should we be worried about those?"

"Generally, no. They're usually crepuscular beings."

"What. Speak Engli…I mean, Basic." Kay smirked. He was a political wonk and had a way with words.

"It means they come out at dusk and dawn. Though, with the light of a full moon tonight, I wouldn't be too surprised to see some active."

"Great. Are they vicious?"

"They can be. They have great tusks, sharp claws, a strong grip, and are generally as tall as me when standing on its four legs."

 _So, a ferocious cat the size of a bear. Wonderful._

"But they don't go out of their way to fight. They're not even especially territorial; their 'territories' are very small, usually caves. But if you venture into their caves, especially if they have their young inside…that won't be good."

"So, just don't go into any caves. Got it."

Abel almost ran right into Kyrana, for And had stopped and Tiloa was berating him.

"…if you didn't understand the map, you should have asked him!"

"I _did_ understand it, I just don't understand why he has to make it so damn confusing with all these heat and elevation markings."

"So," Abel said, "we're lost?"

"No, no," And clipped. "We know where we are…generally," he whispered under his breath. "We're just not sure _exactly,_ per se. Though we really should be close." As And zoomed in and out on his pad, the last vestiges of clouds swept by, and Ashla, the moon, was revealed in all her glory. It was so peaceful.

"There," someone shouted. Abel immediately saw to what they were referring as a faint light was emitting from the nearest hill. "Could that be the crystals?"

They were off and running. After about ten minutes, they reached their destination. It was eerie, almost holy; it reminded Abel of a religious grotto of some kind. The crystals, about the size of baseballs, flickered like blue candles. They appeared hot, for the blue flickering would occasionally emit yellow sparks inside.

They crept inside. Most of the crystals were buried underneath the natural quartz that dotted so much of the land on Tython. Kay reached out to break one out.

"Careful," And warned. "These crystals are highly breakable. I don't know if it would be wise to break them out."

"Besides, Tiloa said, "I don't know if we should disturb this place."

They all agreed and searched the many lights. Finally, Tiloa found one mostly uncovered and set about trying to withdraw it carefully. Others soon found more, while Kyrana and Abel continued on to find their own. Soon enough, they had lost the light of the moon.

"Perhaps we should go back?" Abel suggested, but Kyrana looked pensively above at the ceiling.

"We are not far from the surface. Only an arm's length separates us from the moon. I will make a small hole and we can use this to refract the light into the room." She pulled out a necklace that she always wore. It had a tear-drop gem at the end of a brilliant pale blue. Abel was going to ask where she got it, but realized she was trying to use the Force to poke the hole.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?"

"Eet is an easy thing. You 'ave no faith."

"Well," he said, embarrassed, "it's not that, I just don't know if we should be opening a hole here." But she was already concentrating. Her eyes were closed and her hands were positioned as if she was holding something above her forehead. She seemed to be feeling her way around. Then suddenly, he fingers clenched and she pulled…as a perfect cylinder of rock and dirt crashed down. Abel coughed as some of the dirt rebounded upwards.

"See," Kyrana said. "Eet is no problem."

"Great, I never doubted you." She sniffed.

Kyrana then pulled out her gem and placed it into the light of the moon. The light swept the room, just as Kyrana said it would. Hundreds of flickering flames lit up; Abel supposed there were even more further on inside the cave. He even saw several on some stalagmites that looked like easy pickings. Then they both saw it.

Sleeping on the floor not twenty feet in front of them were six sleeping manka cats. Or he assumed that's what they were. And one of them had opened its eye in the light of the moon.

He wasn't sure exactly what did it. Perhaps it was Kyrana's quick and violent intake of breath accompanied by an unsolicited force use, or else her initial hole in the cave had made it unsteady. But nevertheless, the ceiling of the cave cracked and several chunks of rock tumbled down, jarring the cats awake. Abel turned to run, but had hardly taken two steps when he realized he could hear the sound of Kyrana's breathing. He looked down and saw her lying there, dazed from a fallen rock. He tried to drag her, but she was pinned down. He tried to quickly calm himself then tried to lift the rock. It didn't budge. His breath was coming out fast now. Settle. Clear the mind. Nothingness. Whoo. The Force. The rock. Up, lift, off. The rock did not move.

"Kyrana," he pleaded, kneeling down and tapping her cheek. "Wake up, wake up…" Her eyes fluttered a little, opening and closing.

"Abel. Get the rock off of me."

"I…I can't. I need you to wake up."

It didn't take a Jedi to sense that the cats were awake and aware that they were not alone in their cave. Abel looked up and could faintly see the biggest one growling and glaring. Abel stood up, looking right at her. He force-pushed with all his might. Nothing more than a faint wind.

"Help!" he started calling. "Guys, help!" And he kept on pushing, but nothing again. Kyrana was more awake now, but didn't have the strength to force-lift the rock off of her. The cats were growling, roaring. Two smaller ones started to stalk closer to Abel and flashed their teeth. _C'mon,_ he thought, _if I'm going to die at least let it be quick._ Abel pulled in one breath. _Wait, die? No, that…what?_ Breath, breath, breath, breath, breath breath breath breath… The middle one scratching her claws against the dirt, the left one stalking closer, the middle one bounding toward him –

"Hey!" The creature was blasted back as the other three rounded the corner. Tiloa had sprung into action, force-blasting each animal. Kay was helping her, launching rock after rock. And had gone to attend to Kyrana and was lifting the rock off. He scooped her up in his arms and after a quick "got her, let's go," they were running out of the cave.

They emerged into the moon light, and kept on running for a couple of minutes until they were well out of earshot of the cave. They stopped to rest as And laid Kyrana down tenderly.

"Are you alright? Can you stand?" He looked at her with concern.

"I'm fine," she grumbled. She stood up slowly, and though it was clear that she was unsteady, it was equally clear that she was ready to challenge anyone who thought her unfit to walk.

"What happened?" Tiloa asked, panting. At first, no one said anything. Then Abel continued grudgingly.

"We needed more light, so Kyrana forced open a hole to let in the moonlight. We saw lots of crystals, but also those cats. The light woke one of them up, then the rocks fell somehow and one hit Kyrana and pinned her down. I tried to lift the rock or force the animals away but I…"

"He froze," Kyrana supplied. "'Ee could not use the Force. If it were not for you three, we would have died. Abel should not have come." And she turned down the path and started walking.

Silence fell as they fell in line. The others offered him looks of sympathy and Tiloa patted him on the arm. But they couldn't erase what Kyrana had said, because it was true. His ineptitude would have costed her her life. His ignorance was dangerous. He despised himself.

They trudged back in silence, the moon now an oppressive glare. He went to his room without a word. He didn't sleep much.


	5. Chapter 5: Tea and Tremors

A/N

Pronunciation Guide:

.

New Concept/Word

Etka tea

The relationship between midi-chlorians and the Force

The Paths

* * *

.

Chapter 5: Tea and Tremors

He had always thought of the Force like you would a toy. Growing up, the idea of the Force was like a lightsaber or a wand: it was something cool you could play with in your imagination, destroying faceless bad guys, playing the hero, being the extraordinary. Or sometimes it seemed like an ideal, a binding thing that righted the world. But as Abel lay on his bed sending objects whizzing and scooting around his room he only felt anger for it. _It eluded me for so long and when I finally found it, it deserted me, and here it is, back again, taunting me._

The sun was already streaming through the blinds, catching the dust particles disrupted by Abel's Forceful movements. It was the morning after the incident, and the campus was quiet. Classes were suspended for a week for a galaxy-wide holiday, and many had gone to visit their families or somewhere else. Abel would not be going; he would stay and work.

He slowly propped himself up on an elbow and stared at the room. He twitched his mouth. After a moment, he pulled himself upright and into his chair, and started up his desk-computer. He set off reading an article on insurgent activity on Hutt controlled worlds. Twenty minutes later and he was out the door.

.

"Master, are you busy?"

Master Yolin opened her eyes and focused on Abel. He was peering around her door with a sheepish look. She then smiled warmly and said, "Yes, come in. I was hoping you would come."

When Abel had rushed out of his room, he intended to see Master Prada, his Mediation instructor. Master Prada was the only master he felt at all comfortable with: Kloop, too formal, Djelsic, too cerebral, Yolin, too cryptic, Tul-Tik, too detached, and Pitt, way too intense. But he discovered upon reaching his office that he too had left for the holiday. He was about to trudge back to his room when he passed by Master Yolin's office and felt her presence pulsing. He decided to continue on (she was meditating after all and probably wouldn't want to be disturbed), but something made him stop and teeter between leaving or going through the door. Breathing a sigh, he went through.

"Here, sit down," Master Yolin said, getting up. Abel moved to sit on the floor, while she bustled around her desk.

"Oh," she said, looking down at him. "You are, of course, welcome to sit on the floor. But I was thinking perhaps a chair," she said, gesturing to two comfy arm chairs. She had two cups of a steaming beverage in both hands. Feeling silly, Abel moved to a chair.

"Of course," Abel said, taking the drink. Master Yolin smiled serenely, though with a hint of a playful smile, and drank a sip. Abel also drank and thought it tasted rather bitter, but the aftertaste was more pleasant and reminded Abel of wood.

"It is called _Etka_ tea, from Iktotch. It is made from the leaves of our great Etkon trees. It is a heavy tea and little liked by most in the galaxy." Abel could see why, but he sipped again, for her sake. "I encourage my fellow Jedi students to drink it, as most Iktotchi have noted its focusing and restoring qualities, but it…has yet to catch on." Her mouth curved at its edge.

They fell into silence and after a few beats it appeared that Master Yolin was content to drink her tea. Her manner was still, as always, but her black eyes were focused far away, boring into something unseen. Abel tried to think of something to say, some reason that he had come, but he felt that upsetting the silence was somehow a breach of ritual.

"I know why you came to see me," the master said. But before Abel could respond, "I feel your worry, your frustration, your fear…" She turned her beady eyes toward his. "You think yourself an anomaly, an outsider, or even, perhaps, a late-blooming hero." Abel blinked, then started to protest. "But many of our students feel this way for one reason or another. And we have many new students come to us at a later age." She leaned back and sighed. "The legacy of Luke Skywalker looms over the future of the Jedi. The lightsaber has lost its light." Her eyes focused again on something in the distance. "A forest in snow, a forgotten cave…the light in the dark…echoes and overtones…"

Quiet reigned in the room.

Abel looked on in awe. Master Yolin closed her eyes, breathed in, and shuttered a little.

"Was…was that a vision? Of the future?"

"I see many things…as an Iktotchi, as a Jedi. Being open to the will of the Force allows us to traverse all dimensions of thing and thought."

"Was that vision about me?" She thought.

"The presence would indicate yes, probably." Abel restrained his eyes from rolling.

"But…how does it help?" She turned her eyes to him again.

"Visions may or may not be intended to help. Or to hurt. They are unity. The Force is within all things and being close to the Force is to be close to all things. To be one with the Force is to be one with all things, knowing and feeling, _being_ everything." She grew quiet once more, apparently under the impression she had answered his question.

"So are we supposed to do nothing with visions?" She smiled and seemed to come back to the here and now.

"Do? What you do is up to you. Understanding what you see, that is often a hard thing. But even when we understand, the road is none the easier. We know many things about the future without visions, yet we make mistakes or do nothing when we know we should. I will tell you a vision. I see you as a Jedi. I see you confident, peaceful and wise. Now what will you do with that?" Abel laughed and nodded. She took his hand in hers. It was much larger than his, and rather rough. "Yes, that is a vision I created myself, but it is no less true. The visions we create ourselves are often the most powerful, the most true. But what will you do? That is the thing."

After saying goodbye, Abel took leave and returned to his room. He tried to meditate on the wisdom he had received, but found himself distracted by the dust in his nose and the call of the yuliers outside his window.

.

The rest of the initiates started trickling back over the next few days. The first class back was empirics and Abel was telling And (who had only arrived a couple hours before the start of class) about his conversation with Master Yolin.

"Yeah, I don't really know what to make of it," said And, stroking one of his tentacles. "But, we all know about Iktotchi and seeing the future, so it's not so odd, is it?"

"Well, yeah," said Tiloa in an undertone, leaning into their conversation from her desk. "After all, with Lena Morava having visions every month or so…" She and And broke off into stifled giggles, while Master Djelsic eyed them from his desk. They were supposed to be working silently on mapping DNA. Abel's friends expertly turned their giggles into murmurs of a serious nature, pretending to discuss the assignment. Once the master returned to his work, they returned to their conversation.

"What about Lena?" Abel asked.

"Oh, she's always claiming to have had visions," And said with a wave. "Several masters have come to observe her, but we don't really know if they're real or not."

"She says they've been confirmed," Tiloa sneered. And grunted.

"Does she say what they are?" Tiloa dropped her pen to her desk and faced him.

"Of course; every morning during breakfast if she's had one. We try not to sit too close, but still, we hear these things: 'There was a sun, but it was cold…A girl in white ascending…The full moon rising…' nonsense like that." Abel thought a bit.

"But why is it nonsense?"

"Ugh, because it's Lena. She'll do anything for attention. One time, she told me she had a vision that I would hurt myself that day and told me to be careful." Tiloa shook her head.

"O…K? And did you?"

"Of course not," she snapped. "It's just the high and mighty way she said it, like 'yes, it's very serious' like a medic or something and 'oh, I'm so sorry this IS going to happen to you, I wish I could do more' like she cares, or that I should be thanking her. Murgh! B****," she whispered.

"Sometimes," whispered And, "she only reveals she had a vision after the fact." Abel said "Of course" at the same time Tiloa interjected "Exactly!"

"Then there was the time she got in trouble with that vision about Lev." But before Abel could ask more, Master Djelsic had stood up.

"I believe you should all be finished with your maps." Abel looked down at his half- finished map and started scribbling. He vaguely heard the Jedi call for a volunteer to explain their map and by the time he looked up, Lena was almost done with her explanation.

"So we can see differences between Force-user and normal DNA here and here, regardless of species. Even with the drastic difference between Ithorian and Human structure, there still exist traces of midi-chlorian concentration." Lena sat down as her work zapped off the central screen and back onto her own desk.

"Yes," Master Djelsic said. "And excellent summation of the primary points. Initiate Morava expertly mapped and described the building blocks of the two species, with an unasked-for but cogent discussion on the effects on Force-users. Of course, most Jedi masters will tell you that midi-chlorian activity is only part of the explanation of Force abilities found within lifeforms, but…" Abel looked up at this. He had been a little sad to hear that midi-chlorians were indeed part of the universe, so to now hear that there was more to the answer intrigued him. But while the master began to move onto another topic, Abel realized he wasn't the only one who had started at the mention of this fact.

"Please, Master Djelsic," Lena said, with her hand raised. "What do you mean when you say that midi-chlorians are only part of the explanation?" Master Djelsic seemed to take a mental step back as he gathered his response.

"We have analyzed midi-chlorians at length in this class, but in your other classes you have rarely touched on the subject, I presume?" Most nodded their heads. "The facets of the Force are manifold. It is often more useful to treat the Force as singular entity, a God-force for instance. But not only can this be more useful, but it also seems to be – at least possibly – true. When viewing the Force as a strictly biological or chemical phenomenon – midi-chlorians – the math does not always work. Thus there exists, and has existed, debate within the Jedi community. Some, like myself, believe that we do not have all the data on the Force and that eventually, the math will result in a full understanding of the Force. But others believe that the Force is our understanding of a spiritual existence, something removed or further than science will be able to penetrate. And when it comes to Jedi, they believe that midi-chlorians are lifeforms attracted to the Force, but not the source of the Force ability itself. So far, the explanation that midi-chlorians are indeed the source of the Force within Force-users appears to be the most likely, but as I said, the math does not completely work." As the rest of the class pondered these words, Lena was already talking.

"Master, we often discuss the light and dark sides of the Force. How do these fit into the science of the Force?" Djelsic took a long rattling breath through his Givin skull-like face.

"These are questions of the highest nature. Essentially, you ask me to explain the place that morality has within science and the Force. We have always observed that the universe seeks balance, and as one thing is destroyed, new life takes its place, and so on. We, as Jedi, interpret the never-ending cycle as a dual system of light and dark, a continuous battle. Scientifically, I cannot find a model of this. This model –"

"But Master," Lena interrupted. "Surely our own existence as Force-users must point to something? As I already demonstrated in my map, midi-chlorian activity on DNA does not seem to be passed down further generations through any known dominant or recessive scheme. Life forms are instead granted these special abilities. Why should they then be granted? Wouldn't a system in which we Force-users were, so to speak, soldiers representing the two sides of the endless cycle, destruction and creation? Wouldn't –"

"You mistake culturally created understandings for science," Master Djelsic exclaimed, exasperated. "We can find no evidence of a cosmic war, as you seem to illustrate –"

"So everything we know about the Jedi is a lie?" Lena trilled. The rest of the class was silent as the 'discussion' seemed to spiral out of control. Sensing this, Master Djelsic raised and brought his hand down in a soothing motion.

"No," Master Djelsic said, matter-of-factly. "The Jedi is an order of Force-users committed to using their gifts to create balance in the universe. For thousands of years, the Jedi have interpreted this struggle as the struggle of the light and dark sides of the Force, stemming all the way back to the moons Ashla and Bogan, the same ones we see here on Tython." He paused. "This understanding is not wrong. There is no place for right and wrong in a discussion of science. These conceptions are ways of understanding where we fit and how we operate, but as an empiricist, I do not find concrete evidence for a great 'light' or 'dark.'"

"But that is what we always say," said Lena, almost pleading. "That Jedi follow the light in the great –"

"Yes we do," Master Djelsic clipped. "I suggest a further discussion with Master Yul or one of the other Green Jedi. In an empirics class, we focus on the observable universe. We find no concrete evidence of a God-Force or two Light and Dark sides. We find a hole in the math; that is it. Thank you, Lena, for this valuable discussion."

As they filed out of class, most with heads down, processing, Abel glanced at Lena's face which was streaked with tears. She pushed through the rest of the class and set out down the hallway at a brisk walk.

.

Abel weaved in and out of the younger initiates with his food as he made his way to his friends. When he reached them, he found that the obvious topic of conversation was their empirics class.

"– and did you see her crying? I wonder why," Zek finished, as Abel sat down next to Tiloa.

"I think she just didn't like being wrong. With Master Djelsic interrupting her, disagreeing with her…" She suggested.

"I don't know, she seemed abnormally upset," Zek said apologetically, stirring his food.

"You just didn't like seeing your beloved cry," And teased. Zek glared.

"Can't you –"

"OK, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Maybe," Abel said, interrupting, "she just didn't like finding out her idea was wrong."

"That's what I just said," Tiloa complained, rolling her eyes.

"No, I mean, maybe she was really connected to the idea of the Light and Dark sides. Was she, like, offended that they were myths, as Master Djelsic seemed to suggest?"

"Totally squashed, more like," And said.

"I don't know what the big deal would be though," Tiloa sniffed. "Most of the other teachers probably believe in them anyways; he even said so."

"But she was always more attracted to empirics as a discipline," Zek said. "Besides, I don't know why it would bother her. It makes much more sense if you take the sides out of the equation."

"Didn't you hear Djelsic dumb-dumb?" And rapped his knuckles on Zek's pointy head. "You _have_ to put it in the equation or else the math doesn't work."

"No, there exists an unexplained space, that doesn't mean that there must be –"

"She _was_ always such a zealot when it came to Jedi stuff," said Tiloa, who had been ignoring the other two as she thought it through. "Wasn't she, like, supposedly the daughter of two Jedi or something?"

"That's what she says," And said, stuffing food in his mouth. "Bu' ah don' kno'." And swallowed.

"She lives with her aunt and uncle," Zek said. "Her uncle was her mother's brother and they both grew up under the Jedi religion, though only Lena's mother was a Force-user. She apparently went to the dark side and that somehow killed her, but Lena's uncle refuses to tell the whole story. She's tried to look up her mother in the databases, but she can't find anyone with the surname Vry or Morava. Vry being her mom and uncle's name," Zek explained, at the look on their faces.

As they sank into silent contemplation, Abel voiced another question. "What's a green Jedi?" They looked blankly at him. "Well, Master Djelsic had suggested Lena talk to a green Jedi, but I have no idea what…"

"No one's told you about the Paths?" Zek asked.

"Uh…apparently not."

"Well, it's not important yet, seeing as we're still initiates," And explained. "But basically they happened as a result of the new Jedi Order trying to be different from the old one. After Luke Skywalker died the Jedi Order was still on shaky ground: they weren't sure if Skywalker's direction was the right one, dark Jedi continued appearing, and many Force-users were wary about joining such a rigorous order. So they created these "Paths," pre-designed directions for Jedi to go in. After they had been around a couple of years, they assigned colors to them to make them easier to describe. So there's the Blue Path which is basically a path of scholarship or learning, then there are the Red Jedi who function as ambassadors or law enforcers – these are the Jedi that go on fun missions," And said with a wink. "Then there is the Yellow Path: that's probably the most nebulous of the Paths, but they go out into the world as helpers: as healers, outreach, even politics. Finally, there is the Green Path, which is the Path of enlightenment. And religion, you know, your typical Jedi wizard-priest," And summed up happily.

"So once we're done here," Tiloa explained, "we'll pick a path and be apprenticed to someone who can help us with that."

"Have you thought about your Path?" Abel asked. Tiloa and And looked at each other and smirked.

"Red, obviously." Abel nodded. He could see them in typical Star Wars fashion, infiltrating a crime syndicate or negotiating with unaligned planets. Abel turned to Zek.

"Hmm, Blue, probably."

"What do you mean, probably," And asked. "He means definitely. He's already talked with Master Djelsic about a good chemistry tea–"

"Well, you know," Zek interrupted. "Odo will probably get the best apprenticeship. You know he was done with his assignment today at least fifteen minutes before Lena."

As And waved away his comparison, Abel asked, "Then why didn't he explain his map."

"Oh you know why," Tiloa said. "Abo's…shy. But Lena is…well, Lena. She loves a chance to show off."

"But Abo's actually smarter than she is?" Abel asked, disbelieving.

"In empirics, of course," And allowed. "He's a genius at that stuff."

"Even smarter than you?" Abel teased. And fidgeted.

"Well! I mean…with scores and reality, you know, they don't always…" They laughed as And made up excuses. As they continued talking, Abel thought about his own path. He had barely begun to grasp that he was, in fact, a Jedi. He hadn't really thought about his future after school. What would he do with these gifts? Would he even be able to use them to make a better universe? He sighed and put it out of his mind. As they said, he needn't worry about it now.


	6. Chapter 6: The Field Trip

A/N

WARNING: This chapter could cause some readers some discomfort in that it portrays (spoiler) our heroes searching for an agent in an unsavory atmosphere.

Pronunciation Guide:

Lrede E'da = IPA [ɬɛdɛ] [ɛɂda], approximately "shlede e'da" (apostrophe indicates glottal stop)

"mayrd lubreek" = as it sounds

.

New Concept/Word

Drev'starn is really the capital, but most of the description is my own

"mayrd lubreek" is a made up Twi'lek phrase

* * *

.

Chapter 6: The Field Trip

On this particular day, Abel was reminded of elementary school and the excitement that surrounded the smoky yellow buses, chaperones and hectic atmosphere at a science center, because they were going on a field trip. Technically it was termed "Experiential Learning," but "Field Trip" sounded much more fun.

As they shot out of hyperspace, Abel got his first look at another inhabited planet other than Earth and Tython: Bothawui.

 _Hmm…it looks a lot like the other two_ , Abel thought, with its green land masses, blue oceans and polar caps.

They swiftly landed and the Jedi initiates disembarked in the metropolis of Drev'starn, the capital. Drev'starn shone white, presumably a favored building material, while many of the city's taller buildings were trimmed in gold and blue. The capital resembled some of the larger cities on Earth, though its buildings favored more spherical shapes rather than boxes. Abel thought it looked distinctly sci-fi.

Master Kloop led them to the train which glided gracefully to a stop. As they were boarding, Abel and several others turned their heads as a commotion erupted further down the platform. They watched as a young Bothan male frantically dashed out of the train with three other Bothans in hot pursuit. The one Bothan got off a few shots with his blaster, causing several bystanders to duck for cover. He had almost disappeared down the stairs when suddenly a food vendor stepped out from behind his cart and tripped the fugitive. The Bothan authorities had just caught up to their prey when the doors of the train closed and they started moving.

"Damn spies," Kay whispered next to Abel's ear. Abel turned abruptly. Kay was wearing an expression of extreme disgust.

"What do you mean?" Abel knew that Kay had strong political opinions.

"The Bothan Council and all their secrecy," Kay answered, "they are renowned throughout the galaxy for their spy network and it generally works great for the Union, but here on Bothawui…it's like living in a centrifuge. The people never know what to expect, never know who's good or who's bad, if there is such a thing. And if they make the wrong choice, the government gets 'em," Kay finished dramatically.

Abel looked back at the dead serious face and snorted a little. "Gets 'em?"

He nodded. "They're scared. So many of them will take any chance they can to show their loyalty. They turn on each other. But most books don't mention it. They don't like to talk about it, not in class anyways…"

"Even in class?"

Kay looked around. Voice controlled, he asked, "Have you heard of Lrede E'da?"

"This is our stop!" Master Kloop called to the rest and they slid past the sliding doors. They ascended into the sunlight and began walking along the nicely groomed street in the city center. Abel was rather surprised to see And and Tiloa, who were usually so quick to scorn everything, were also looking around with interest.

"You can especially see it in those buildings there…" Abel tuned in to Zek's running commentary. "See how far they're spaced? They must belong to extremely wealthy Bothans, for, as the Bothans say, 'Space makes safe.'"

They turned down a side street and Master Kloop held open a door that looked like it would lead them into a shady bar. This couldn't be it.

"Well…in you go." Lena – who was in the lead – balked. But at the master's gesture, she forged ahead. They followed the grimy stairwell down several flights and emerged onto a dimly lit platform. Almost immediately, another train appeared, this one even sleeker than the public one they had left, and colored jet black. A serious Bothan dressed in a sharp gray uniform stepped out and watched as they filed in. Master Kloop turned to speak.

"Most major cities on Bothawui have vast systems of tunnels connecting buildings, but none are as complex as that in Drev'starn. No one knows exactly how deep they go or how many there are, but it is estimated at several miles underground and a combined length of nearly five hundred miles worth of tunnel. As it is, the Council determined it necessary that we should arrive in such an inconspicuous manner." Abel thought he detected a hint of reproach in her statement. "I do hope you followed my instructions and left all gadgets behind. We will be thoroughly searched on our arrival." She eyed And suspiciously. He held out his hands.

"Don't worry, Master, I followed your instructions to the S." She nodded, then realizing what he said, shook her head and faced forward. And winked.

They soon reached their destination and ran the gamut of security. Kyrana looked especially miffed as the Bothan security guards ran their sensors over her.

" _Mayrd lubreek_ ," she spat under her breath as her lekku vibrated. Abel raised an eyebrow, but Kyrana just glared at him. He took the hint.

They continued following Master Kloop who herself was now being escorted by another Bothan. Abel couldn't help seeing their little group as a line a ducks and he chuckled. He earned hard stares from some of the nearby Bothan guards. They were finally ushered into a small door and they took their seats on the viewing deck of the Bothan Council chamber.

The Bothan Council was composed of 18 members, each representing a different nation-state on Bothawui. The Jedi initiates were here to watch the Council in its operation as it dealt with law creation, dispute mediation, and communication between Bothawui's many economic and political ministries. As was to be expected, most Council sessions were highly secretive, and it was only through the pulling of many strings that they were able to witness it in action.

The ten initiates fidgeted through the proceedings as officials, managers and "attendants" spoke to the Council. Kay kept up a running commentary: "Oh, that's Minister Drs'ka from the Ministry of Public Finance, he's probably here to secure another loan for the Boran Corporation…" The hours whittled away thusly and Abel found himself starting to daydream. He looked to his right and saw that Puli had actually fallen asleep. Or maybe she was meditating.

Abel was interrupted from his thoughts as another "attendant" scuttled into the room and barked the attention of the court.

"Sirs, I have received an urgent report from the stellar agent. He reports that one of Nal Hutta's insurgents is staying here –" But before he could get any further, one of the councilmen interrupted him. The other members were noticeably agitated.

"I would like to remind the attendant that we have guests in the balcony today." He gestured kindly to the initiates with a slow wave of his hand. And waved back. "Perhaps he can elaborate on the background of his case."

Caught off guard, the attendant spluttered, "Of course, your eminence." He launched into a quick run-down, how Nal Hutta reps had reported insurgents lurking in the nearby Manda sector. He finished his report saying that they had a possible insurgent staying near the spaceport. He was quickly dismissed and went away shaking, looking gaunt and defeated. It struck Abel as odd. He leaned towards And.

"That was weird. It seemed more important than it ended up being, don't you think?"

And gave him a pointed look. _We'll discuss this later_ , it said.

.

The Council broke for lunch and the initiates were ushered out and into a smaller conference room to talk with Councilman Hurd'nan, a councilman from one of the smaller nation-states. After a brief overview of his work, he allowed for questions. Kay immediately spoke.

"Councilman, forgive me, but there are those in the galaxy that harbor prejudice towards Bothans because of their prowess in espionage. How does this affect your operations?"

The councilman looked a little taken aback, but he growled in assent. "Aye, you have that right. There are those in the galaxy that mistrust us as a species. I myself have felt firsthand the effects of discrimination. Bothans are forever mistreated and misused. It is of upmost importance for the Council then to uphold the Bothan peoples. We must be strong to combat those who seek our ruin –"

"So I imagine the loyalty of the attendants becomes vitally important."

"Yes," the councilman agreed heartily, "I will admit that Bothans can be mischievous at times, but the loyalty of the government attendants is absolute. The Council cannot function without binding –"

"And if you found that one of them lied…" Kay drew out.

"Death. Swift death, and they know it. Even other Bothan entities, our corporations, our ministries, would not seek to corrupt a Council attendant. In the case of war –"

"But surely there would be no need for a full scale war. With Bothawui such an important part of the Union, they would have full support –"

"Ah yes, but for the smaller wars, you know. The "shadow wars" as they are called, intelligence is key. Bothawui is proud to be one of the galaxy's first lines of defense. We protect thousands of systems."

"Like your sector neighbors, for example."

"Naturally. It is only smart military posture to maintain strong relations with those bordering –"

"So if violence erupted in, say, the Manda sector, if there was a revolution there, the Council would want to know quickly." The councilman smirked at such a simple observation.

"Certainly. But it would never go so far as to become realized. Our neighboring sectors have no threat of violence. We would ensure that long before."

The rapid-fire conversation between Kay and Hurd'nan had continued good-naturedly, with Kay seeming to ask only responsive questions. But here Kay paused.

"There's no threat of violence then? That's good," Kay proclaimed with a laugh.

"None," Hurd'nan said seriously. "There would never be."

Master Kloop had caught on. "That's enough, Initiate Kay. If someone else –"

"No insurgency then in, say, the Manda sector."

The only sound was the gentle purring of the air conditioner. Each of the initiates had realized what Kay was getting at. His eyes were fixed on the councilman though who had gone deathly silent.

"I misspoke, the recent insurgency there is a new development and classified. I had forgotten that you were privy to that information. It will be dealt with soon." He finished, still staring hard at Kay.

Master Kloop cut through. "Enough from you, Kay. Lena, have you any questions?"

And it went on from there.

.

The Jedi initiates arrived at their hotel for the night. Quickly enough, Abel congregated with And, Tiloa, Zek, and Kay to discuss the morning's events.

"Are you actually that good?" Abel asked Kay.

"Whatdaya mean?" Kay asked slyly.

"Yes," Tiloa answered, "he was _trying_ to get certain answers, and yes, he is that good. When it comes to talking people 'round."

"I knew there was something off about that attendant," Abel proclaimed.

"I think everyone did," And admitted. "It was pretty sloppy."

"I assume attendant just means spy?" Abel asked. They nodded. "But what _was_ that though about Nal Hutta insurgents?" And shrugged and looked to Kay.

"It hasn't made it to most news outlets," Kay began, "but if you read between the lines, it seems that the Hutts have been putting more and more bounties out on local "thieves," but they aren't reporting stolen goods. Then there are the Letters."

"The letters?"

"They're published letters from a user called The Godsheart. Political stuff prophesying the end of the Hutt regime, calling on the Union for support, that kind of thing… But the thing is, the Hutts are after them; like, excessively after them, and they still haven't been caught. It indicates sophistication."

"If you already suspected this, why were you trying to goad the councilman?"

"I didn't _know_ it. A lot of other political wonks like me suspected something was going on. But I more or less confirmed it. If the Bothans are pursuing it at such a high level of government, it's real."

"Yeah, I guess…" And said, running a hand through his tentacles. "But you would think this would be big news, that the Union –"

Kay scoffed. "No, the Union, the Bothans, they're all quietly helping the Hutts. They've helped maintain the slimy empire for tens of thousands of years. They don't want it getting out there that an insurgency is happening. People might start to root for it."

"That explains the Letters, then," Abel said. They looked at him. "Balancing trying to get popular support with trying to hide who and where you are. I suppose that's pretty hard."

"And they probably don't want the Jedi knowing about it," Tiloa offered. "We're too principled." They nodded. "Yeah."

Kay frowned. Then shook his head. "I was really hoping to get him to let slip where this insurgent was staying, but I realized that would just be too hard to fool him on."

"Well, let's see," Tiloa said, sitting up, all business. She was a notorious snoop. "We know that he's here on Bothawui. I would think here in Drev'starn."

"I got that impression, too," Zek said. "He specifically said 'here.'"

"What exactly did he say?" Tiloa turned violently to Zek, excited. "He has a brilliant memory," she said in an aside to Abel. Zek thought for a moment.

"Something like, 'I have received a report from the space agent. He reports that one of Nal Hutta's insurgents is staying here…' then he cuts off."

"Space agent?" And said, "Th'hell that's supposed to be?"

"An agent stationed in orbit?" Abel proffered.

"Actually, I think the word he used was 'stellar' agent," Zek amended.

Tiloa stared blankly. "So…he was really good?" But it gave Abel an idea.

"Someone pass me the thing…" Maybe stellar wasn't an adjective, maybe it was a noun…

"What thing?"

"The…the thing!" Abel was pointing. "The pad!" Kay scoffed, but tossed him a computer pad.

"I was thinking," Abel began, "that maybe" – he started typing – "it isn't stellar but _Stellar_." He clicked. "Could there be a place, a restaurant or something, named that?"

Click click. _Yep_.

"Right here! Three miles away. The Stellar Lounge and Casino."

"Let me see!" Tiloa called, unbelieving. Abel tossed the pad to her like a Frisbee.

"My work here is done." Abel sat back satisfied.

Tiloa scanned the information while the rest of the guys silently thought. Zek finally said the obvious. "Are we supposed to do something with this information? What, are you going to post this for your poliwonks?" he asked Kay.

"Nope," Kay answered, "we're going ourselves, of course." The three of them erupted into their own exclamations, with Zek's scoff, Abel's "no way," and And's "excellent."

"C'mon, you two. The Union's not telling us, and the Jedi _should know_."

"Let's tell Master Kloop then," Abel said. Kay rolled his eyes. "Really, why would we play investigator?"

"This is the kind of thing we'll be doing in a few years," Kay argued. "Think of it as practice." Abel remained unconvinced. "Isn't knowledge power?"

"I didn't think Jedi sought power," Abel countered.

"Agh!" Kay said with a wave, "you know what I mean. This is the right thing to do. I know it." Abel looked at Kay who was staring almost pleadingly back. "You can do something positive, something real." Abel looked down. Perhaps.

He inclined his neck a little. Kay pounced. "That's enough of a yes for me! And Zek's in, even if he says he not."

"I'm not."

"Excellent, we're all in."

"Well," Tiloa finally unloaded what she had been sitting on, "there is one little snag." Kay raised his eyebrows. "This place, Stellar? It serves a particular clientele."

"Eh," And said, "we can always blend in."

"No, you don't understand. It's…well, it's kind of…a hookup bar."

"What."

"To put it mildly," Tiloa finished.

"So…" Kay began.

"So, I don't think this agent, whoever he is, is going to want to talk to a bunch of boys."

"Well," Kay blustered, "we don't really know his type…"

"We do if he's hanging out at this Stellar place. Trust me. This isn't even your average Twi'lek slave dance party, where it's 'look, but don't touch…'"

"Yikes," Abel said. He knew there was sleaze all across the galaxy, but he still seemed to view it as that PG Star Wars place. "If that is so, and we are doing this, you can't go in alone."

"I know," she answered, thinking and biting her nails, "we need to go get Kyrana and Puli."

"No, I mean we're going with you."

"Well, I know, but even still. It's a large place."

"This is gonna be a long night," Abel said in unison with Kay. They said it in somewhat different tones, though.

.

*Knock knock knock*

The door opened and Kyrana came face-to-face with And who broke into a smile.

"Hey Kyrana, wanna go on a date?"

Her eyes narrowed.

A half hour later, Abel, And, and Kay were walking side-by-side with Puli, Kyrana and Tiloa along the crowded street. They were dressed up to the nines with the boys in sharp shirts and the girls in short dresses, having stopped at the store in the hotel lobby. A quick airtaxi ride away and they swooped into the platform on floor 24 of the Stellar Lounge. They had decided to move about the lounge in pairs, so they exited the taxi as such, trying to distance themselves as much as possible so others wouldn't see them as a group. Abel exited last with Puli and they made their way to the bottom level.

Abel's first sense of the place was the smell: it stank of smoke and sweat. This was not one of the galaxy's refined establishments as he and Puli were jostled between crowds, Abel making sure to keep his grip on his "date." They eventually reached the bar and ordered drinks. Puli let out a sigh and turned around, leaning against the counter, eyes narrowing.

"Sense anything," Abel said quietly.

"Yes. Much."

"Anything useful, I mean."

"Oh. No."

Abel snorted. He didn't really think their plan would work. They would sense, _divine_ , the presence of their target? Fat chance in a place like this. The Bothan bartender returned with their drinks and he and Puli pretended to have a conversation as they scanned the room. The Stellar catered to a mostly foreign crowd it seemed, with humans making up the largest percentage and only a few Bothan clients.

"We never really asked ourselves," Abel began to Puli, "what exactly this agent would be doing here."

She shrugged. "Sleazy places bring shady faces."

"But why would he come to one of the most secure cities in the galaxy? What could he possibly be doing here that he couldn't do somewhere else?" Puli frowned.

"I don't know. But should we walk around?" They took their drinks and made as if to meander to a sabacc table. Abel saw one man eyeing Puli almost aggressively, so he put his hand on her bare back. He could feel the bones of her vertebrae which glistened with the sweat of the place.

"Sorry," he whispered to her, "a guy was eyeing you." She nodded but after a moment swiveled back.

"Which man?" He frowned, but covertly pointed him out. "We aren't really getting anywhere. I think I'll go talk with him."

"With _him_?" Abel said incredulously.

"I can take care of myself," she assured him. She slunk passed him. Whispering in his ear, she said, "and you'll be watching me." Abel watched her as she swayed her way in the general direction of the man, seeming not to notice his laser-like stare. Abel returned to the bar and nursed a drink, covertly keeping an eye on his classmate. Several women tried to join him, but he politely refused their company. He didn't have enough money even if he wanted them. He shivered.

Puli played her part well, he thought. She looked like a lost girl, innocently pattering from table to table until she graciously accepted the man's invitation to sit. She did so meekly, keeping her head down in a modest manner. She continued to look demure as they chatted, occasionally letting slip a coquettish chirp.

Soon Abel fell into a bit of a reverie; the shouts, bells and moans faded and the world slowed. His thoughts slowed and left. He sank into his chair, running his fingers along the crystal lip of his glass, round and round and round it went. And a pinging in his ears and somewhere else, too. Yes, it was there.

He got up. He deposited his drink and buttoned his shirt as he ascended the stairs. He could feel it, something pulling him up here as he entered the labyrinth of alcoves and private rooms. Around the corner, is it him? Is it the agent?

Instead, he saw a familiar face. Kyrana being led by another man; her eyes were strong, though staring at the floor and she walked stiffly. But Abel noticed something and acted quickly.

"Darling, there you are, I've been looking everywhere for you," Abel called to Kyrana, adopting a slurring accent. "Come come, I've already secured you another booking, sorry sir, sorry sir, you'll just have to find another…" Kyrana's eyes bugged as he tore her arm away from the man who began protesting.

"Hey, who 'da hell do you think you are!"

"Sorry again sir, but she has another appointment, I'm sure you'll find –"

"That's my girl, you can't –" But Abel whipped around, staring fiercely.

"No, she's my girl. I'm not gonna explain to you how things work here, bud, but I suggest you move along. I have a deal with this club here and they can make things real hard for you." Abel's lip arched with disgust as the man finally took the hint and walked away grumbling.

"What are you doing?" Kyrana hissed. "He was a regular here, he was providing me with much needed information."

"He was leading you into a darkened room and he had a specific look in his eye," Abel said awkwardly. She stiffened at the implication. Then she held up her head.

"I knew that was his general plan. I can take care of him myself."

Abel bit back a retort. Instead he removed his hand from her arm and replied, "Of course. But I just didn't like it. I'm sorry." Kyrana looked at him, searching, while he continued looking forward. She seemed to decide.

"Well. Thank you."

As they continued walking awkwardly together, eyes of clients were drawn to them in a way they weren't when Abel was with Puli. One called out from across a balcony as they descended the stairs. Another, a weequay, stroked Kyrana as he walked by. And still Kyrana walked ahead, though with her eyes squinting small. Another human male came up to them. He smiled toothlessly, a winking look, and whispered huskily at Kyrana.

"Twi'lek girl, you, ya know, good down there?"

She stood stock still, torn between acting a part, force-throwing him against a wall, and pure shock. Abel didn't know exactly what he was asking, but he could guess the implication.

"Sorry, but this one's no good. Yeah, yeah, she…ah, yeah no," he finished stupidly. He wasn't very good at talking like this.

"Uh, well, that's fine," he slurred, proceeding to prod her lips. She pulled back, startling the man. "Ooh, I like that, I could always –"

"Nah, trust me, she's got…you know…it," Abel said, betting.

"S***, man," he said, recoiling, "why didn't ya tell me first! Seriously, why she even here?" He was wiping his hands on his jacket, as if that could do anything. "I hope she told _you_ first."

"Yeah, that's why I'm taking her out."

"Good, yeah, good," the man said, turning to Kyrana. "These Twi'lek dirty girls don't know when to stop. They do it on purpose, I think, to get back at us." He nodded back to Abel. "Good luck, man." Then he stomped away, a chorus of "s***"s and "f***"s trailing behind him.

Abel turned to Kyrana who was breathing rapid shallow breaths, but still stared ahead. He couldn't believe how calm she was. "I'm sorry, even Puli didn't have –"

"No, I'm sure she didn't." She turned to walk ahead, her fists clenched and lekku trailing, and Abel but followed.

They had barely gone a few meters when they heard a great crash, and shards of glass came tumbling from a room above. Abel and Kyrana looked at each other.

Kyrana looked up. "Where there's trouble…"

"…there's probably Jedi," Abel finished. They sprinted up the stairs.

.

When Abel and Kyrana arrived on the scene, they found they were the last to the party. They were standing in the doorway of one of the suites overlooking the interior gambling tables and entertainment. The grand window to their left was just a gaping hole. They immediately ducked for cover as blaster fire rang out over the heads, diving behind a plush divan. To their left, they heard someone swear.

"Dammit," And spat as he peered around his overturned table, "I wish we had those lightsabers."

"What's going on!" Abel shouted to him.

"Well, ah" – And twisted his hand and they heard a yell and a thud from across the room – "nice, it's a bit of a long story, but somehow Puli thought she tracked the guy down and came up here but they're actually a drug smuggling syndicate and tried to kidnap her and Tiloa – I don't know, sensed it maybe, I wasn't there – and she raised hell and now we're all here."

Abel looked at all the pieces of furniture strewn across the room. It looked like a cyclone hit it. "Tiloa did this by herself?"

"Yep."

Speaking of the devil, Tiloa suddenly burst through her own barricade on the far right, sending pieces of an armoire and an entire loveseat hurdling toward the shooters. Kay was hot on her heels, directing smaller bits of debris toward any adversaries not taken out by Tiloa's barrage.

The commotion ceased. Blasters had stopped sounding and furniture had stopped crashing. Tiloa gingerly took a few steps forward then quickly stepped back as a blaster shot just above her head. But And was quick on the uptake and flew at the last criminal, punching him right in the face. He crumpled.

"Clear," And stated. He stood up and closed his eyes, extending his hand over the ground. "The room seems clear," he spoke. Tiloa rushed forward.

Abel finally saw where she was going. Puli was slumped on the bed. Was she…?

"Just passed out," Tiloa answered, reading his feelings. "They hit her on the head when I came in." She was checking Puli over just to be sure. Tiloa looked up and nodded. Then she laid her hand on Puli's forehead and breathed in and out, in and out.

Puli's eyes fluttered open. Abel released the breath he had been holding. He covered his own forehead with his own hand.

Puli eased into a small smile and tilted her head to the side. "Sorry, everyone. I thought I sensed…well, I was close, wasn't I. He _was_ the head of a large illegal organization." Tiloa just shook her head, still cradling Puli's in her hand.

"Um guys," And said, "we should probably think about leaving." He turned to look at the carnage.

"You just mean the room, not the whole place, right?" Kay pushed.

"Kay," Tiloa said, "we can't stay; not only from the mess we caused but Puli's in no condition to keep going." Abel had been looking at Kyrana who had slumped down against a wall. She was hugging her knees with one hand and stroking her lekk with the other, staring straight ahead. She was shivering.

"Kyrana isn't either, I think," he said quietly.

"But, but…" Kay was red in the face, even more agitated than usual.

"Kay," Tiloa said more firmly, "we don't have –"

"Stay where you are! Hands up, turn slowly towards me, this is Drev'starn Security!"

But before they could so much as blink, they heard another familiar voice.

"Stop! Hold your fire, sirs, I am a Jedi and they are my pupils!" Master Kloop had arrived and Abel's stomach dropped.

Their Rodian teacher eyes, which were usually bright and jovial, were gray. She stopped to converse with the head of security. At one point she barked to them, "They were drug smugglers, correct?" They nodded, she nodded, and she went back to discussing with the officers. She raised her voice and Abel heard her say, "I promise you, you will get statements from them once _I_ have dealt with them!" _Oh no…no, no. This will not be good._

"Right, you six, come with me." The master waved her hand and marched away, leaving the initiates to follow in her wake. Tiloa went first, face dusty with smoke, leading a bent Puli by the hand; Kay strutted, convinced of his own right, though with his tight lips quivering slightly; Kyrana slowly rose and glided out like a ghost, and Abel and And, with a glance to each other, stepped on as if to the beat of a solemn drum, in the knowledge of their own guilt.

.

They marched back to their hotel in silence. They accompanied Master Kloop to her room, where she proceeded to chew them out. They told her what happened, all of it, but it made little difference. Abel just hung his head, looking at his feet and the fraying carpet. It was quite a luxurious carpet, made of long, soft hairs, colored blue. He felt hot.

They were not to be let out of her sight again. They would be monitored. They would miss the rest of the trip to make statements with the security tomorrow. They would face the Council of Teachers when they returned. Their punishment would be meted out there.

They dispersed to return to their rooms. As they were going, another door opened and Lena peaked out. She was trying to put on a look of haughty aloofness.

"Why are you all up at this hour?"

"I don't know, why are you?" Kay snapped.

"I can't help it if you're galloping down the hall like a herd of nerfs. If you –"

"It was her, she turned us in," Tiloa said.

Silence hung in the air.

Kay was the first to respond.

"You conniving, little –"

"I had to," Lena said breathlessly. She had suddenly shed her aloof attitude. She was almost giddy. "You have no sense. None of you…you don't even care about who you are. You don't deserve to wield the Force. I knew something like this would happen."

"Like what? How do you even know, were you following us?" Kay asked

"I didn't have to," she said pompously, "I could sense you." Even after what she had done, Abel couldn't help but be impressed. She could sense them all the way there?

"Bulls***," And stated.

Lena turned her eye to him with a curving smile. "Some of us have skills beyond yours, Initiate Kino." The implication of seniority, which always galled And, made his black eyes bug.

"Look guys," Abel said soberly, his voice cracking slightly, "we're all tired. Let's just go to bed."

"No," Kay said firmly, "she's the reason it all went wrong, she always is."

"Kay," Abel said, almost pleading. He looked around at red-faced Kay, And staring daggers, and Tiloa smiling devilishly and a clenched fist; Kyrana and Puli looked out of it. "Kay," Abel said in a kindlier voice, "she's not even the reason we got caught. Look at the mess we made, we…we were always going to face that." Abel didn't say the thought that echoed in his mind. _We deserved it._ But that wasn't his decision to judge.

Instead, on a strange impulse, he faced Lena. "Thank you, Lena." He bore her no ill will. All his anger was for himself; deciding to go out, being stupid, letting Puli wander off on her own…nobody watching her…

He watched Puli as she sank into her own room. Abel didn't even notice the others, if they still argued, if they too had turned toward their rooms. As he was closing his door, a flash of blue caught his eye. Kyrana too had left the scene. She was in the middle of her doorway, mid-close of the door, leaning her head against the in-between, the thin side of the door. Her fingers were absentminded, massaging her lips, as she stared. She sensed Abel and caught his eye. The connection broke as the door shut itself. Abel went to bed.


	7. Chapter 7: The Fields and the Fenn

A/N

Pronunciation Guide:

Nak = [næk] like "snack" without the "s"

opfzes = phonetically, how you'd think those consonants would go together

ensacta = en-SAHK-tuh, [ɛnsaktə]

.

New Concept/Word

opfzes/opies

ensacta

Dentry

Throwers

Journal of the Whills – these are creations of Lucas & Co., but from what I can tell, they are intended to be records of galactic events found thousands of years later by…us? In this story, they are a great Jedi journals recording their history and pre-history (quasi-myths)

* * *

.

Chapter 7: The Fields and the Fenns

The ride back was as subdued as the ride there was lively. The darkness of hyperspace whizzed by and yet seemed so still; it seemed as if they hardly moved at all, no rumble as accompanies a car ride, yet they flew faster and farther each second than humans from Earth had traveled before. In his cocoon, Abel couldn't appreciate the majesty of their speed. It is hard to see such things in such darkness.

Abel spent most of his ride slumped in his chair, sick. He had probably picked up something on Bothawui. He alternated between the chills, shivering, and waves of heat causing rivulets of sweat to course down his forehead. Tiloa had noticed and offered to do something, but he waved her away. There was nothing she could really do; it was just one of those sicknesses. She and And sat staring forward, or else studying or some such activity on their pads. Of all the initiates only Kay and Lena seemed at ease; Lena was peacefully reclining, hands clasped with interlocking fingers, while Kay tried to engage others, currently Zek, in conversation.

Even though Zek had not been one to leave their hotel, he was still implicated in "the crime." He had been on-call during their escapade, and even though And had called him during their shoot-out, he had declined to notify Master Kloop. Needless to say, she did not appreciate this. He was seemingly trying to make up for this by refusing to talk to Kay as a religious rite.

They finally made their descent into Tython in the afternoon, both in their internal clocks and on Tython. The sun was low on the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with orange and pink. Abel watched as the grass below the ship waved in the wind. A flock of birds were disturbed in the trees and took flight and several leaves fell to the ground.

They trudged back to their dorms and Master Kloop reminded the seven of them to arrive next morning at the temple to report to their council. Abel broke off from the rest, as he decided to forgo the quick elevator ride up and take the longer climb to the dormitory by foot. And volunteered to go with him, but he shook his head.

The weather on Tython rarely deviated from its balmy temperate temperature, even in the night. Though the sun was setting, it remained warm. The air was moist and clung to Abel's skin as he put foot over root and rock up the mossy path. Though the sky above was ablaze, the forest was gray in dusty dusky light.

 _It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do_ , Abel thought as he tripped over a root in the half-light. _At least not when you're sick_. Abel had thought some fresh air and a walk might do him good after being cooped up in the ship all day, but the Tython air just made his head even heavier. He squinted as he walked. He thought again on the night before yesterday, but he stopped thinking about it because he didn't know if he would have done anything differently. A cool breeze interrupted his thoughts; a nighttime breeze on Tython was unusual. But he felt colder and soon a case of the chills had come upon him. He made it to the temple complex in blue darkness. As he crawled through the hallways, he passed by And's door which stood ajar. He could hear the voice of Tiloa, then heard Kay: "Yeah, but we don't know that. Maybe the agent had already left, I mean the Bothans…" Abel tuned out. They were discussing what had happened and Abel found that he didn't really care about this mysterious rebellion, at least not at the moment. He trudged on.

.

Abel had had a fitful night of sleeping, dreams of a snowy forest, being pursued by a lightsabered man and fighting with only his bare hands, of a desert place with storms and a canyon… He woke several times and finally decided to get out of bed on the fifth or sixth time. It was early morning; the light was still gray. He donned his gray initiate robes and set off toward the temple.

Abel had rarely been up so early at the temple. The normal buzz in the central courtyard that hummed during the day was dormant. The only sounds were the gentle hiss of the fountains, the rustling of the trees in the wind and the distant dull roar of the waterfall. He crossed the courtyard in silent step and slipped into the temple.

He paused for a moment in the anteroom, between the outside and the inner sanctuary. On a whim, he sat down on the cool, hard stone. The semicircular alcove was ill lit; it was hardly even an anteroom, more of an intersection between the outside and the archway to the heart of the temple and the two curving hallways to the right and left. Abel was still sick and had felt a little faint, so he sat. He watched one of the candles that lined entryway, whose flame was little over an inch tall. It sat still, not fluttering in the breeze like so many others, but burned slow and steady, a smooth, solemn thing; it seemed hardly alive. But as Abel watched, and as Abel thought, it suddenly sprung, fluttering free, shimmering incandescently with such movement and dance. Another attack of the chills rolled through Abel and he shivered. The flame flashed, leaving only a trail of smoke dwindling in its place, writhing in the air like a snake. Abel let out a small "ah!" This one candle had gone out and it was his fault, he thought. He tried to renew its flame with the Force, concentrating with his hand, thinking fire, but he did not yet possess the skill. He stared at the candle, arm and hand outstretched, then his shoulders slumped and his hand fell. He watched as the trail of smoke drifted haphazardly toward the sanctuary. Coughing, Abel pulled himself up and he followed the trail inside, hunched as a weary traveler.

He had tried sitting in a meditative pose below the Ray, but his sore joints and cramping muscles protested fiercely, so he removed himself to sit in a comfortable chair. He didn't know what he came for. But still he sat, and still he thought under the spell of the rotating Ray. The crystal-like light so often found in the temple was absent in the yet-to-rise sun. But the Ray glowed with a faint light of its own, appearing to Abel now a dull green. Slowly it rotated, but never wavering, though Abel stared at it coldly. Rumbling silently on. It turned, and so Abel turned inward, thinking through everything that happened the day before yesterday. He thought as one folds a paper over and over, folding new creases ceaselessly over old creases so that the folding becomes impossible and the paper becomes a useless crumpled mess.

He looked down and realized that his hands kept kneading each other. He didn't even know he was doing it. _These are not my hands_ , he thought. _Otherwise, I would know what they were doing, wouldn't I?_ Perhaps they were never really his after all.

Suddenly, the sun rose outside and the great chorus of light blazed through the roof and down to the ground as a waterfall, and the Ray beamed green. Its reflection covered Abel like a spotlight, and he shielded his eyes from the intensity. He moved to more manageable light.

Sometime later, he stood and exited, dragging himself to an upper floor where the council awaited him.

.

The seven masters sat at an ordinary round table, some tapping on their pads and desks, others smiling at the children as they entered and one (Master Prada), falling asleep. This was far from the scene in Abel's head. (A great solemn affair with the seven masters vaulted high above them like judges handing down their doom). The seven initiates hesitated until Master Yolin indicated to the seats at the table.

"Please sit."

They took their seats. Abel was grateful, for his knees were weak. His palms were sweaty and he couldn't decide whether to lean forward, hands clasped together on the table, or to lean back, looking poised. He opted for slumped and head down.

No one spoke for several seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

And it kept going.

It was a long time to wait.

Finally, Master Yul spoke in his gravelly, grave rumble.

"Do you know that you acted wrongly?"

Abel looked up. The master was surveying them carefully, though not disapprovingly. His long head passed slowly over each of the seven, as though in hope. As if falling, Abel suddenly felt worse than ever as his very being vibrated in chills. He let out a strained breath. Not knowing if he required an answer, it was Puli who finally spoke.

"Yes, master. We do." Master Yul turned to her and looked on her kindly.

"Do you speak for your classmates, too?" She shrunk back a little and shrugged.

"I think so. I think we all regret what we did. It was rash and ill-conceived and…disrespectful, both to the Jedi and to our hosts. But we _did_ …well, we did think we were doing a good thing, but I see now that it was wrong." Her falsetto voice finally shut off at the valve and she sheepishly sat back. Master Yul nodded slowly, while a couple of the other teachers looked like they wanted to speak. But it was clear that Master Yul was running the show.

"Master," Tiloa started, "we do understand. We – that is, And, Kay and I – talked about it last night. We accept our punishment, whatever it is." Master Yul nearly smiled.

"Your punishment?"

"Yes…" Tiloa said uncertainly. He nodded. Then he looked straight at Abel. He looked away and saw Master Yolin absentmindedly spinning a stone on the table.

"You believe Abel, too, understands, though you did not talk to him?" Abel's face heated. He continued to watch Master Yolin's ball spin.

Tiloa nearly scoffed. "Well, of course, he's almost sick with guilt. He didn't even really want to come; he only came because we asked him."

For the first time, Master Yul looked troubled, and he looked to Abel. "You didn't want to go with them, yet you went." Abel thought and felt like the stone he saw: spinning. He half shrugged, then feeling the need to speak, did so.

"Yes. Well…they asked me."

Master Yul continued looking at him looking at the green top turning until Tiloa snapped.

"Does it matter, Master? We are all friends and we decide together and act together, and now we will face our punishment together." Abel couldn't help but laugh a little at Tiloa's cavalier speech, especially when Master Kloop couldn't take it anymore and let loose with an "Initiate!" He felt much of the tension in him and the room drain a little. The spinning had stopped.

Master Yul raised his hand and she quieted, though he was smiling. "Yes, initiate, I think I see your point. So you all understand?" They all nodded, though the master focused on Kay.

"Do you have more to say, Kay?" Abel looked and it did indeed look like Kay was teetering on the edge of speech.

"It's only –" he started suddenly, then plunged head, "while I understand that it is wrong to disrespect masters and leave our hotel as we did, I can't but believe in our cause. We as Jedi must act for good, and this agent was a key to uncovering the events in the Hutt Empire. The public, even the Jedi – as Master Kloop told me – are in the dark over these events, and it is not right that they should be hidden. 'Things in shadow are things in darkness' as the Jedi say; also 'Do not but be; act.' Well, we acted to bring things to the light. Knowledge that _must_ be known, for the Hutt Empire is certainly not on the side of the light, though it seems that it has been tolerated as such, and so it should be undone." It seemed that Kay had not expected to be allowed to speak for so long, for he finished: "I…I still think that what we did was, while rash and disrespectful, not wrong."

Master Yul nodded several times at a glacial pace. His eyebrows lifted and he spoke. "Many things you have said, many wise things, many foolish, and many both. On these events you speak of, I can only tell you that there are things some Jedi know and you do not." He paused, then smiled. "Words are like water, slippery and infinitely flexible. This is not the time or place for philosophical debate, so I will ask but one question: Do you feel, at the center of your being, good about what you have done? Did goodness come from your actions?"

Kay thought and jutted out his chin. Abel couldn't help but be in awe of Kay's bravery, though he did think it easier to just accept and acquiesce. Kay started tapping his knee.

"I respect you too much, Master, to want to directly disagree. But you ask me how I feel, and I feel good about what we did." Some of the teachers murmured, but Master Yul just nodded.

"Less needs being said than more needs to be done to know what you should." Abel tried and failed to understand this cryptic statement. "We – the seven teachers – believe you are old and wise enough to regret your actions; your feelings are your own punishment. But we have decided that you shall instead assist our farmers and help tend our fields in the north on your off-days." Abel looked at his classmates and saw several confused faces. They knew their food was mostly grown locally, both for educational purposes and as a principle of self-reliance, but he didn't think any of them had been to these "fields" let along knew where they were.

"Do not think of this as punishment, for it is not intended to be so. It is merely a way to give back, something we all need in our lives." He looked especially at Kay who sat more sullenly than the rest of them. Master Yul suddenly laughed. "Why are you all so glum? You made a mistake, now learn from it! And be joyful, for Force's sake, you're putting a cloud over the whole world." Master Yul had suddenly turned into a crotchety old man and Abel and several of the others couldn't help but laugh heartily, though Master Kloop was noticeably sour-faced.

As they were exiting, Master Yul called out to Abel, "And Initiate Abel, please go to the medical wing and get that cold taken care of!" Abel smiled and nodded. But as he left, he thought he heard Master Yul mumble to himself, "Though something tells me it would have cleared up on its own by tomorrow."

.

Abel rose with the dawn on the morning of his off day. A month had passed since the incident on Bothawui. Things had gone mostly back to normal, except of course for their weekly forays as farmhands.

Abel passed through the courtyard away from the temple and turned right on a dirt path through the grassy field. Most of Abel's earlier interactions with the forests of Tython occurred to the left, to the south west. Instead, he walked for fifteen minutes or so, up the gentle incline of grass to its ridge. It was a clear morning and all the planet was singing as he looked over the nest of small hills and gullies which held their food. This pocket, hardly a square mile, was surrounded by the deep forest which hovered near it like an animal lying in wait to reclaim its own. But it only made the sun shine all the brighter on their fields of leaf and berry.

Abel crested over the ridge and loped down across the grass until he met Nak, the Gran "Grower." Abel was surprised to find out that he was the only non-robotic being continuously working here – he would have thought there'd be a whole team – and even more surprised to find out he was a Jedi.

"Why?" Nak had asked, "D'ya think all the Jedi became famous starship pilots? Aye, it's a thankless job, but one that needs doin' and doin' right." Nak appeared a cantankerous (grumpy) old farmer, but he was all right.

"Good morning, Nak," Abel called. The grower had insisted on just a first name.

Nak, who had been bending down to check on some pink lettuce, looked up. "Ahh…young Abel. You know, most of your classmates are already here working. Except for that And fella…" Nak grumbled, continuing to mumble incoherently.

"What was that, Nak?" Abel asked with a smirk as he checked his assignments for the day.

"Ah, mind your own, you, it wasn't to you I was talkin.'"

Abel laughed, then set off toward Bed #38. He walked under the shadow of Nak's longhouse, both his living quarters and his shed and warehouse. He picked up a sack, hefted it over his shoulder, and turned to walk along the rows of plants and herbs. The wind picked up as he went, blowing across him, making the trees to his left creak and grown while the crops and grasses to his right fluttered. Scents of damp earth wafted, mixing with the fruity herbals scents like lavender, peach, and others besides. The sun was bearing down already as Abel found his bed for the day. Zek was caring for the adjacent bed.

"Oh good, at least I have someone to talk to," Zek said as Abel arrived. He stopped to wipe his brow, sweating.

"Are you seriously sweating already?" Abel asked incredulously. "The sun's barely up and you've been here – what – ten minutes?"

"Fifteen," Zek corrected. "I have to lug this thing around" – pointing to his sack – "and I have to bend down awkwardly the whole time tending to the plants. I don't _do_ manual labor."

"Well, neither do I, really," Abel admitted. "But I think I can do this. It's more gardening than farming."

"Well, it's more than I usually do here," Zek grunted. The farm system consisted of both the above ground plots as well as the underground crops which were generally the more plentiful and important crops. They also occasionally worked down there and some like Zek preferred it.

Abel opened his bag containing pellets of…well, he didn't really know, but good things to make plants grow. He then sprinkled the contents over the nearest groupings of _opfzes_ , a fruit native to Ithor that looked and grew kind of like a tomato, but with a harder flesh like an apple. The name was hard to pronounce for humans so they usually called them _opies_.

Abel, finished with this first grouping, hefted his bag over a few meters and continued the process.

"What I don't get," Zek said, between breaths, "is why" – breath – "we can't" – breath – "at least use repulsorlifts," Zek finished.

"Because!" Nak seemed to appear from nowhere. "It disrupts the plants! Stop asking stupid questions and get to work!"

Zek mumbled a few curses under his breath and threw the last bit of his mixture into the plants. "I think he's making things up just to give us a harder time."

Abel just shrugged. He didn't mind it too much.

An hour or so later, Abel was done feeding and watering his bed of opies. Now began the real work. He returned to the first group of four stalks and sat down casually, legs "criss-cross applesauce." He reached out to the first stalk, a light steady breeze playing across his hands. He lightly cupped some of its leaves in one hand while the other pressed the ground, sensing for its roots. Abel closed his eyes and began to speak comforting words. He didn't even think about what he was saying, just things like "rest and be happy," "I am here, and harm will not come to you," "I love you," and things like that. Then he was silent and simply reached out with his mind. A minute later he opened his eyes. He smiled a little, looking at the opie. He patted the ground and moved on to the next one.

He was never sure if he was doing things properly. There were no great "Jack-and-the-beanstalk" moments of growth, and he wasn't even sure he could feel the normal tug of the Force. But he just trusted that he was following Nak's ways correctly. They had all been a little skeptical when they were told of the process that would take up most of their time here, but Abel found it simple enough. It was a kind and quiet thing.

By the time Abel was done, it was lunch time. He headed back to Nak's Shack (Abel had called it such and when he taught them the meaning of the English word, it stuck). He found most of his classmates already there. And, who had arrived last in the morning, was already there Force-flicking nut shells to see how far they could sail before Nak barked at him to quit it. Kay, Puli, Zek, and Tiloa were sitting down with their pies and Abel joined them.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Tiloa said dryly as Abel sat down. Her face was blotched with dirt and she had taken off her shirt and tied it around her chest. "Did you enjoy your date with the opies?" she giggled.

It was well-known that Abel was one of the few that actually rather enjoyed their duties.

"Well, at least he's back before Kyrana," said Kay, gesturing over his shoulder. Abel looked and watched as Kyrana, with closed eyes, tended to a yellow-flowered plant, concentrating solemnly, not moving. Then she opened her eyes and looked so lovingly at her flower as she held its head of petals, and she smiled broadly. Abel didn't think he had ever seen her fully smile.

"Yeah, she gets really into it," Tiloa agreed. Abel couldn't help but watch the blue-headed girl flit among the field of yellow flowers. _It was nice to see Kyrana actually happy for once_ , Abel thought. _Instead of her grave, morose –_

"I don't know, Tiloa," And said, coming over, "I saw you loving those _ensacta_ trees pretty hard earlier."

"Shut up, And," she said, throwing her cup at him. He flicked it back with the Force and hit her in the head. "Ouch!" She held a hand to her head.

"Well…you did throw the –" But And's legs flew up in front of him as Tiloa had whipped with the Force, and he landed on his butt. They were all laughing.

 _Well_ , Abel thought, _really they all enjoyed working here, they just didn't say it._

"Enjoying our break, are we?" Nak had sauntered over. "Good. Then you're all refreshed enough to carry that pile of hubba fruits."

They groaned.

.

Today they didn't have to wake up so early, so Abel rolled out of bed with the sun already up in the sky. He peered out the window and saw Master Tul-Tik leading a group of younglings, probably off to the woods. He pulled on his gray clothes, then made his way to the bathroom, rinsing his mouth and teeth with _Dentry_ solution (more efficient and way easier than brushing teeth).

On his way out, he followed Lena out the door. She held the door open with a smile, then, with a whip of her brown hair, trotted across the courtyard to the temple.

 _Probably on her way to tell the teachers about another vision_ , Abel thought. As he was watching her go, he tripped over one of the cobblestones. He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned as he made his way to the farmland.

His Ortolan friend, Lev, emerged out of a farther door as he was walking by and Abel waved. They fell into step on their way to the farmland, for Lev, hearing about it from Kyrana, had decided to actually volunteer to help.

Abel had been spending more time with Lev since Bothawui, mostly because he felt a strange coldness between his friends; not the active cold frost created from hurt feelings, but the empty damp cold found on a moor that you can't quite detect. It had been better since their time in the plant beds, but still.

They arrived and Nak wasted no time.

"Today, you're going into the forest. Doin' some brush cleanin'." He turned and started walking off.

They followed, but And called, "Are you going to explain?"

"You younglings never give me the time to!" Nak said, returning with a bundle of what looked like leaf-blowers, though a little less clunky. "These are your tools for the day, 'throwers.' Flick this switch here to the right for fire, left for water, middle for off. OK? Easy."

They looked doubtful.

"We're gonna be tackling quadrant 5C, several miles away, so we're gonna take the tram. Everyone follow me." They started to and Nak called back, "And before you start asking questions, yes, I'll be explaining more along the way."

They squished into a small boxcar that looked like it was built to carry a maximum two people and some equipment. As they shot through the forest, Nak continued.

"The quadrant is one square mile. You're gonna be working in pairs, clearing away some of the overgrown brush by burning it, and containing the fires with the water. Now I'll be showin' ya how it's gonna work, but you'll need to know this now. DO NOT LET THE FIRE GET OUT OF CONTROL. I don't wanna be dealin' with any of that, and neither do the inhabitants of this forest."

"I don't think they'd want us there at all," Kay whispered glumly, but Nak heard. He narrowed his three eyes at Kay.

"Oh, I don't know. Some of the carnivores might be pretty happy…" Kay just twitched and pouted, looking off to the side. Though Nak had faced forward, Abel saw a ghostly smile appear.

Abel soon found out that the animals definitely did want them there. In addition to taking care of the health of the plant life in the forest, their job included looking after the health of the animals. Abel didn't know exactly what they would be doing, but Nak just gave a "Oh, you'll know what to do" answer. Lovely.

Abel was partnered with Lev and they set out for the farthest corner. Abel was surprised to see how clear their way already was. He was expecting having to bushwhack his way there; most of Tython's forests were dense, thick from branch to root with brambles, leaves, moss and rocks. But it felt more like he was strolling through a park; a park with trees the size of buildings and slippery silky grass, that is.

The tracker they had been given showed them that they were at the right spot, and, true enough, Abel could see a small marker in the ground not ten meters to his right, indicating the boundary of 5C. Something tickled Abel's nose and his sniffed, inhaling the acrid scene of smoke.

"Looks like some have already started," Abel said to Lev. Lev just nodded and looked at his thrower uncertainly.

"Well, I guess we start?"

Soon enough, they had a small blaze going. Abel had taken charge with the flames, while Lev doused them before they reached the towering trees. They wanted to clear the ground of weeds and dead leaves and such to create a healthier atmosphere. Abel understood this argument, but still…

Lev seemed to have similar thoughts. "I don't really understand what we're doing."

"I know," Abel answered, "I'd probably feel more comfortable with a thrower if I had a little more time –"

"No," Lev interrupted, "I mean, why are we burning living things?"

Abel just shrugged. "I think they do this on my home world too. It's supposed to be better for the overall forest health."

"So Nak said." Lev shook his head, causing his trunk to flap around. Abel hid his smile. Abel thought Lev was going to continue, but he had lapsed into silence again. He had been about to suggest they change jobs – he was getting just a bit hot – but he decided against it.

Lev was looking down at a burning shrub. Its leaves were glowing at its tips and it crumpled so delicately that it seemed a creature collapsing against itself. Soon the wind caught it and its blackened husk flew away, lighter than air.

The air was filled with ash. Thankfully, Nak had given them masks. Abel was reminded of Kel Dor, the species of Ma Fenn who originally found him. They wear masks everywhere. Most inhabited planets have oxygen levels appropriate for humans, and those lucky enough to be like them. Others have to wear masks. So here was Abel, masked in the forest, burning things.

By the time they finished burning and dousing their designated area, the sun was at its zenith. When Abel called a final halt, Lev collapsed against a rock and sat staring at the charred remains. Abel took his thrower and leaned it up against a tree. They ate their lunch in silence. Then they packed up and headed for the animals.

Nak had said 5C was home to at least several hundred of animals of at least ten different species that he "looks after." Abel was confused by how Nak related to these animals. Were they his livestock? Were they wild animals he kept tabs on, like scientists keep tabs to take note of population changes, etc.? Abel figured the latter, but when Nak had mentioned feeding them and "shearing the mussak's fur," he had had to ask.

"So _are_ they the Jedi's animals? There aren't any fences, are there?" Nak turned his three eyes to him which his signature piercing look.

"No, there wouldn't be, would there?" But seeing the questioning faces from some of the other Jedi, he persevered. "No, they are not _our_ animals. We do not own them in the way farmers own their nerfs. We take care of them, as we have for generations, so they are more or less domesticated, in their own fashion. We care for them, and they trust us, so hunting 'ems easy. It's a symbiotic relationship, as it were. We learned it from the Hoden people on Tortel a couple hundred years ago."

"The animals still trust you after you hunt them?" And said disbelieving.

"Well, they don't always know it's me. And besides, there's plenty enough other things in the forest to kill 'em. At least they're more protected here, so they generally stay here where the eatin's good."

So now Abel and Lev were on a mission to ensure they weren't too frightened by the flames. They walked back through the world of gray and ember and out on the other side to another quadrant. They began placing food around the nearby area and made themselves scarce, but after thirty minutes, still no animals had come.

"Welp," Abel said, finally, "I'm at a loss." He looked at Lev who was frowning. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe…" Lev hesitated, "wave the food around? Help them smell it." Abel shrugged, doubtfully. They could probably smell it already. "We should probably leave," Lev said. "They still know we're here."

"But Nak said they would come up to him. They trust him."

"But that's him. How do we make them trust us?"

Abel sat down on the ground. He didn't know. "I don't know, maybe we sing to them," he joked, thinking of Disney princesses and their animal helper friends.

But Abel saw Lev's eyes go bright with possibility. Abel rolled his eyes. Of course that would appeal to Lev, even if it was a stupid idea.

"Lev, you can't think I was serious."

"It could be worth a try." Abel just shook his head.

"Oh dear…"

Lev stood straight, legs planted firmly to the ground like a tree. He took a couple breaths and wheezy toots from his trunk. _Warming up?_ Then he reached out his hand.

He started low, so low that Abel's ears could barely detect it. It was a rumbling, sonorous sound, slow and sad in melody, musically mythic. The notes undulated, a pulsing pond with ripples so bare, waves washed over barely breaking, up and down, up and down, groaning, going to the edges of the woods.

It was comforting though, for all its power. And soon, the pitch was higher, the melody more distinct, and higher and higher it went so that it became like birdsong, blissfully sailing to the sky, joyful. And Abel finally sensed the truth as he looked at Lev like he hadn't before, so full of hope and home, that he was using the Force in song. _The Force surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together._ Is that not what music does?

Lev's hands were facing outward, as if he was conducting a symphony – which he was – trying to create a sense of peace in the woods, an invitation. Soon, hardly to Abel's surprise, animals of two legs, four legs, hair, wing and hoof, began to appear. They went with calm, unafraid of the two figures standing so brazenly. They bent and began to eat.

Some even continued past the food, sniffing and nuzzling the blue creature creating such sighing sounds. Winged creatures fluttered near and sat upon his shoulders.

Abel stared in awe. "Wow, you're one unique Disney princess," he said, laughing broadly. There stood this dopey blue elephant-man surrounded by clamoring shires and kapirs, while birds twittered around his head.

"What's a disniprinses?" Abel shook his head.

"Never mind," Abel couldn't stop smiling. "Yeah, but how can we get them to eat?" Lev had stopped singing, but still the animals flocked to him.

He moved toward the food and set the animals down, trying to direct them to their appropriate meals. In such an atmosphere of peace, Abel was also able to guide the animals, and they were soon after him, too, for affection.

As they were playing, Kyrana and Kay appeared. Kay stood with hands on his hips, looking impressed.

"We heard your dulcet tones from our quadrant and had to come take a look for ourselves. You really have them eating out of your hand," Kay exclaimed. Abel snorted and bent down to pet a saarl. "Where did you learn to do that," Kay asked. Abel looked up and saw Kay looking at him.

"Oh," Abel said, motioning awkwardly to Lev who had his back turned, "no, it was Lev. I was just along for the ride." Kay looked taken aback.

"Oh, wow, Lev, that was…really cool!" Kyrana had already moved over to Lev and was helping him spread out the food.

"Yeah, we just laid out the food and hoped for the best," Kay whispered to Abel. "Kyrana tried meditating, hoping that would bring animals nearer, but no such luck. We were basically giving up by the time we heard the singing."

Abel's response was cut short by a high-pitch growl. He saw there, beyond the bent figures of Lev and Kyrana, on a small hill of rocks, three manka cats staring down at them.

Kyrana and Lev stood up and quickly stood with Kay and Abel. The other animals had also looked up and some were scattering.

"It looks like you worked your voice a little too well," Abel said to Lev. He frowned in thought.

Kay took charge. "OK, Kyrana, you distract them, then climb up that tree over there, it has several good branches in it. I'll –"

"No," Lev interrupted. Kay looked astounded at Lev's intrusion. Lev wasn't usually one for coming up with battle plans, or even really speaking unless specifically prompted. "Do nothing; I will take care of it." Kay looked at the others, but Abel already had an idea of what Lev had planned.

And sure enough, Lev began to sing. But this time, it was harsh, like radio static; but it seemed strangely lulling to Abel, as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to fall asleep. His eyes stayed open, but his mind was lulled…lights on, but nobody home. Then a few seconds later – or it could have been minutes, Abel didn't know – everything was here again.

The manka cats advanced slowly, but cowed; the other animals watched them warily, but soon returned to their meals as the cats went to theirs. They were happy.

Abel turned to Lev. "What did you do?" Lev's doe eyes looked back as Kay and Kyrana also stared at him, fascinated.

"They needed calming, that's all." He started walking in the direction of the tracks. Abel looked at the other two and shrugged. They collected their things and made to follow Lev. Abel turned to look once more on the scene of natural harmony. He smirked. _And everyone thinks Lev is powerless_. One of the manka cats moved over graciously to let in a shire. _If that isn't power, I don't know what is._ He left.

.

"…and then the manka cats just came to eat their food, docile as a lamb!" Master Prada laughed, smiling. Abel had just finished telling their Mediation teacher, Master Mein Prada, about Lev's impressive mediation several days before. Kyrana was standing and had occasionally jumped in with a detail or two, but Lev was finishing his work for the day. Abel suspected he was too modest to hear his tale regaled.

"It sounds like impressive work, initiate!" Master Prada called. Lev looked up, nodded morosely, and got back to his work.

They had taken over one of the cabins to the north, and Abel could just see Nak's gardens out the window. They were learning the theory behind healing. As Master Prada said almost every lesson, "it's more of an art than a science." Of course, Jedi know how bodies work, and they know they are able, with great attention, to heal with the Force, but how those go together is still a relative mystery.

Master Prada called attention to the class. Most of them had finished and were sitting around; And and Zek were playing doryoand the look on Zek's face said And was up to his old tricks. "I'd like you all to partner up and apply the theory. I don't expect it to work perfectly; in fact, most of you will most likely feel you've done nothing. But that's fine," Master Prada assured them. He divided them up and Abel was partnered with Lena. It was And who asked the obvious question.

"Master, what if neither of us are injured?" Master Prada's eyes looked far away, but they soon brightened and winked.

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Abel rolled his eyes. _Yeah, that sounds safe._

He approached Lena cautiously. He hadn't had many intimate interactions with her.

"So do you…have any injuries?" She stared at him, then shook her long brown hair around her shoulder. She reached into a pouch on her belt and withdrew a small pointed object. She plucked her arm and soon a hair of blood dribbled from it.

"Yes."

"Oookay, well, I'm just gonna get one of these…" Abel pulled out a spool of gauze from his own pack. She held out her arm and he dabbed the blood, then pressed the gauze down. The healing process didn't require skin to skin contact and it was probably better that he didn't risk spreading germs. Plus, it was gross.

They sat down next to each other and Lena rested her arm on her knee. Abel took her arm in both her hands, with his left hand over the wound. He thought it was odd, but he felt his left hand was more natural, even though he was right handed.

Lena sighed, then looked off to her right. You'd think was an everyday occurrence. Abel, however, was concentrating on the wound, letting his mind fade, letting the Force flow through…

After a few minutes, though, it felt like little was happening. Abel looked around and saw similar results across the room. It looked like Zek and Kay had ceased working and started chatting. Abel looked back to Lena who was continuing to stare off into space. Her hair fell back behind her face like a curtain, swaying ever so slightly. Abel took note of the arm he was holding. It was so delicate; Abel was suddenly impressed how –

Abel's thoughts were cut short as she started to remove her arm from his hold. "I think that's enough, it's clearly not working." Her brown eyes flicked to Abel's and he wondered if she had sensed that he had been thinking of her.

"Sorry, Master Prada had said that might happen."

She sniffed and turned her head up and away. "Yes," she said, and that was that. She checked her arm, and said matter-of-factly, "I'll take care of this later." Abel offered her his arm, but she held up her hand. "No, I don't need the practice, thank you." He shrugged.

Abel didn't know if he should remain sitting with her or go…somewhere else. But it appeared that Lena had something else in mind.

"What," she began, her voice high pitched, "was it exactly you said Levenbro did in the forest? Sang, or something?" Her face looked innocent, her wide eyes, but Abel could see the tension in her posture.

"Yes, he used the Force through song to influence the animals." He wasn't sure what she was looking for.

"Then it was a form of Force suggestion?"

Abel looked sideways at her. "Maybe. I don't really know."

She nodded, then seemed to realize she was on pins and needles and slumped down. "It just sounded like something out of the Journal of the Whills," she said conversationally.

 _Wait_ ,Abel thought, _he knew this_. "Aren't those old Jedi texts? Poems?"

She nodded. "They are a record of Jedi events through all time. It is our most treasured text," she added, as if he should already be able to quote the thing.

"I thought it was only a record after the Empire." She narrowed her eyes.

"No-o." She shook her head. "It is a record since the founding of the Je'daii."

"Well, what are the Whills?" She took a large breath to deal with his ignorance.

"They are another word for the Force. They are also beings in the first part of the Journal, creatures of the Force that created the forceful beings that became the Je'daii. It tells of sister and brother, Ashla and Bogan. It was Bogan who sang to influence others to do his bidding," she said scathingly. But Abel had to back up.

"Wait, aren't those the names of the moons of Tython?" Abel instinctively looked up at the ceiling. Lena sniffed.

"Where do you think the names come from?" She sighed again, but a frown grew on her face.

"It's one thing for you, you don't even know. But everyone else…" She glared around her. "They've never appreciated where they are. This is Tython!" Lena became animated. "This is where it all happened, the birth of the Jedi, and they care nothing, nothing, for the Whill of the Force." Abel frowned at her as she drew her knees to her chin.

They came back together as a class and reported on their results. Abel was thankful to learn that so far no one had succeeded. Master Prada was just reassigning partners for a second go of it when Abel noticed a shape behind the master.

Master Prada had evidently noticed it to, for he said, "Ah, it looks like we have a visitor today. Initiates, this is Ma Fenn, a Jedi Knight of the Council." Master Fenn waved quickly, then bent to whisper to Master Prada. The mediation teacher nodded and mumbled something, gesturing to a seat near the wall. "Master Fenn is here on a routine check-in to report to the Council. Not to worry," he assured them, "he's more here for me than he is for you. Just continue on as you would."

Abel nodded to Master Fenn. Her eyes, as always, were obscured by her goggles, but she gave an inscrutable nod back. Abel turned to Kyrana, his new partner for the exercise. He quickly offered to prick himself and started scrounging around for a tool.

"Don't bother," Kyrana said, "I already have a wound." She showed him the laceration on her palm that was still gleaming red. He held her hand in his right hand, and suddenly, she seemed to hesitate. He placed his left in her palm, trying to make it casual. But still, Abel felt incredibly self-conscious sitting there holding Kyrana's hand. Kyrana, too, looked awkward. Abel thought she had never looked so young, sitting there, small and doubtful. She was usually so confident and aloof he forgot she was actually younger than he was.

"You know, you really should be more careful around sharp objects," Abel straight-faced. Kyrana frowned and thought Abel ridiculous until she realized he was only joking.

"Really, is that your way of making conversation?" Abel snorted. "Besides" – she looked directly at him – "I'm always careful." She held the look so intensely Abel thought she was going to murder someone. But then she broke off and laughed. She trailed off.

After a minute or so, Abel asked, "Do you know the Journal of the Whills?"

She shrugged. "Mostly."

"Lena was talking to me about it. She thought Lev's episode in the forest reminiscent of something Bogan did, apparently." Kyrana's eyes grew dark again.

"Atchkala'a tupala –" Kyrana stopped her tirade. "It was nothing the same," Kyrana said, darkly. "That character, _Bogan_ , was bending a mass of people to his will."

"But technically," Abel started, "that _is_ what Lev did. Isn't that just what Force suggestion is?" Abel thought he may have crossed a line, but Kyrana just looked back at him imploringly.

"No," she said, eyes growing bigger, "Bogan _made_ people do things, things against their will, terrible things. Lev only helped. He…he made peace flow through their minds so they weren't afraid. He made them realize the truth." She broke off and looked over to Lev who was practicing with And. She looked back to Abel and hesitated before speaking. "It is good of you to befriend Lev." She bit her lip. "I'm his only friend here."

"Oh." Abel half-shrugged, half-nodded. "Yeah, well, he's so…interesting, you know." Then he breathed out. "He's, he's good." Kyrana nodded and smiled. "I know what it's like. I arrived here and everyone had already known each other, and already knew all about the Force… I mean, you're…how old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"And you're still way better than me."

"Of course," she said with a smile. "But you are different from him, you know." Abel furrowed his brow. "You came here and on your first day made friends. And, Tiloa and the others…they took you in. In a way they never did with Lev."

"Or you." Abel couldn't help it, but she just eyed him.

"Yes, but, not quite. I…" She stopped mid-sentenced and seemed to…blush? "You are lucky. Even if you can't throw a proper Force punch." They chuckled. Kyrana put her other hand over Abel's and grasped it as a touch of tenderness.

Abel felt a slight tingle in his hand, but not on the back where Kyrana touched, but on the palm that faced her wound. Kyrana had evidently felt it to for she removed her hand from his grasp. She gasped.

It was healed. No sign, no scar, just smooth skin.

They quickly called Master Prada over, and the others trickled in to see, standing around them in a circle. Master Prada held Kyrana's hand, turning it over, examining it.

"Well done, Abel, well done." He was beaming, his little go-tee shivering with excitement. "I think on that, we are dismissed for the day." The gaggle of initiates gathered their things, each of them grilling Abel and Kyrana about what happened and how they could replicate it. They exited the cabin like a bunch of school kids (which, I guess, they were), as the setting sun cast a reddish glow over the hills of fruit and flower.

"We're gonna have to celebrate," Tiloa said. "Our boy here actually beat us all at something."

"Yeah," Abel said, "whadaya think about that, And." He was trying to keep a straight face.

"I suppose I can let you have one. _This_ time. But see, now I know we're on even terms. I can stop taking it easy on you in combat training."

"Oh I see…" They laughed. Abel was suddenly struck with the intensity of love for these people, these friends he had made in the most foreign of foreign lands. Kyrana was right. He was lucky indeed.

He leaned against the railing overlooking the beautiful fields. He assured his friends he'd meet up with them at the dorms, and as Kyrana, who was the last to leave, went down the steps, she turned and met Abel's eye, giving him a rare broad smile. He smiled back then turned to the fields before him. He could see Nak wading through the grasses, and he thought he heard the faint traces of pipe music wafting in like a summer breeze. Perhaps he could even smell the notes, or maybe they were just the notes of strawberry and peach.

"That was impressive."

Abel turned to face Master Fenn. "Was it? I didn't try to do anything. It just happened."

She studied him. "Yes. I could…sense that."

"Overall," Abel began, "I think I've been a bit of a disappointment here. I haven't been able to do much."

She unfolded her crossed arms and placed them on the railing.

"I would not say that. It seems that your teachers speak rather well of you."

Abel shrugged. "But I cannot do –"

"No one expects you to equal your classmates, children who have been here since they were toddling in their undergarments."

Abel looked sideways to Master Fenn to see if she was joking, but she was as stone-faced as ever. "Yes, I suppose."

She made a small hacking noise. "You suppose. The way of the Jedi is not about power, it is about light. You can be proud of yourself."

"So these lessons are unimportant then?" She bristled and ignored his comment.

"You have made friends here?" Abel felt strangely self-conscious.

"Yes." He paused. "I always thought of Jedi being solitary folk."

"Some may be. But friends are ever our greatest strength. Always remember that true power, the power of the Force, comes not from me or you but from us; not the one, but the many; not the self, but the world."

She slowly bowed to Abel, then left. Abel watched her graceful form glide across the lawn. He seemed to see himself in profile against the sky, as another might see him. He looked at his hands. Can these be my hands? He curled them, making a fist, then flicked them out one by one. _Yes_ , he thought, _they must be_. He gave one more wistful look at the lovely land and set off. _It is just as well. The sun is setting lower, and its shadows of the forest would soon cover the flowering fields_.


	8. Chapter 8: Namiko

A/N

I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone that has been reading my story. I don't think this is everyone's cup of tea, especially not in the Star Wars fandom, so I appreciate it.

I would also love to hear what you think of it. What do you think of the characters? Is there anything you're confused about? Excited to see happen? Curious about? Art is meant to generate discussion, so I appreciate constructive and informed opinions. Five chapters left of part 1 (Chapter 9 to come tomorrow night)!

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Pronunciation Guide:

namiko = NAH-mee-koh

Jomar = YO-mar

Eera = EER-uh

Hejram = HEDGE-rahm

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New Concept/Word

namiko

steelsabers

Nemoidians/Duros – while the general relationship is canon, I am expanding the Duro mindset that Odo espouses

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Chapter 8: Namiko

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The planet turned, the sun traveled the sky, and years passed. Abel was eighteen. He had visited Earth several times on holiday, bringing back wonderful tales from the stars, but never did he stay longer than a week, for his training brought him ever back.

Today Abel awoke to a tickling sensation on his cheek. He gently brushed off the cricket creature and stretched, the bed creaking. Outside the roar of the waterfall was keenly heard and Abel imagined he could feel its spray tumbling in through the window.

The initiates of his class, now the eldest at the Temple, had moved into individual cabins scattered throughout the forest. It was to teach them responsibility. Abel's cabin was little more than a room, with his bed pushed to one side and a small kitchen on the other. Between was a separate door leading to the bathroom.

Abel padded across the carpeted wood floor to said door. A few minutes later he proceeded to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling out a piece of bread, courtesy of the grains of Nak. Abel had harvested his own grain, made his own flour and baked his own bread. He smeared it with a berry paste and chomped on it. He did not turn on his pad.

Once finished, he sat on a mat.

Once finished, an hour later, he grabbed his pack for the day and set out.

His feet pounded down the trail he had started to wear down during the last few weeks. He noticed the sprouting pink flowers called _namiko_ , whose petal heads resembled octopi, tendrils curling like grasses. When they sprouted, the others wouldn't be far behind.

He reached the cliff side by the waterfall. The rocks were drenched from the mists and in between grew small tufts of grass. Abel peered over the edge, over the hundred foot drop, then looked up where the water first crested over to cascade down and down. Abel was in between on his own cliff. There was no bridge to the other side.

This was the main reason he was assigned to this cabin. It would force Abel every day to confront an obstacle, and every day Abel would trust in the Force to ferry him forward.

Abel backed up a few paces. Then he ran.

He planted his foot against the slippery rocks and launched himself over the chasm, over the mists. The Force went with him, like a mist itself, propelling him on while the waterfall to his right looked on. Through the air he flew, wind whipping at his face and feet.

Then _thump!_ He hit land on the other side. His feet stuck, like a gymnast, as he bent his knees to absorb the force of the jump. A smile crept to his face as it often did then. He continued his walk to school.

.

"I can't do it, Mr. Abel," the youngling cried.

"Of course you can, Jomar," Abel replied. "You know, I couldn't even move a rock two years ago?"

The young Togruta boy giggled. "You must have been bad!"

"Hey!" Abel put a hand to his chest as if wounded.

They were gathered by the Crystal Lake for lessons that day. Abel and the other Jedi of his class had begun helping teach the younger ones in the academy half a year before. As the eldest class, they were expected to pass on their lessons. Also, Master Yul had said, the greatest way to learn is to teach.

"He was bad; I remember when he arrived here."

Abel turned his eye on her. "Thanks, Eera." She shrugged. Eera was in the class immediately below Abel's and many in her class were also helping out, though mostly shadowing the older ones. Eera was also an Umbaran, colloquially known as the Shadow People. They were notoriously cold, and had a dark sense of humor, so Abel couldn't always tell when Eera was joking. Like now.

Eera was a mystery to Abel. She was a little girl, but she had more cynicism packed into her than everyone else at the Academy combined. After researching more about Umbarans (Eera refused to discuss it), Abel found that theirs was an especially ruthless society, filled with almost a hundred levels of castes every Umbaran knew by heart, with the sole purpose of an Umbaran to move up the caste system, usually through cruel tactics. When he brought it up with her, her eyes pierced his and she was silent the rest of the day. Abel apologized, and all she said was: "Ah. I thought you might have been tricking me."

Abel had no idea how he was supposed to have been tricking her, but that was Eera.

"Eera was right, though, Jomar, I was bad." He glanced at her, and sure enough, saw her grimace. She never seemed to know how to respond to Abel when he agreed with her. "So I have faith that you'll be much better than me. Besides, think how cool it'll be when you can move rocks underwater!"

Jomar's eyes lit up. "Yeah!"

They were teaching the young ones how to use the Force to hold their breath for longer periods at a time, which could be a vital skill if they need to weave their way through toxic fumes or traverse a labyrinth underwater.

Jomar scrunched up his little face, determined to do it. With a great gulp of air, he shot back underwater, a loud splash echoing across the lake.

Abel glanced to the nearest alcove of the lake where Kyrana was working with another pair. She and Hejram, a Mirialan girl, were deep in discussion, their heads bowed to one another. Suddenly, they both let loose a sharp laugh that turned into giggles and their student bobbed his head up to see what the matter was. The girls waved him away (no matter, no matter), but they kept glancing at each other, snorting. Abel couldn't help but think that they'd fit in perfectly at a mall on Earth.

"You stare at her often," Eera observed. Abel flinched.

"What? No I don't."

Eera's eyes drifted across his body. Oh yeah, Umbarans could also see heat.

"You are lying, or else you are still feeling the effects of –"

"O.K., perhaps I do sometimes. But I watch a lot of people. It's called people-watching. It's a thing."

"Hmm, I don't think that's what they call it."

Before he could answer, Jomar popped up gasping for breath.

"Three minutes!" He yelled, slapping his watch. "Three minutes! Three minutes! Ha, ha ha ha ha!" He flopped back onto land and did a little dance. Abel looked bemused at his little apprentice.

"Well done, Jomar," he laughed. He noticed Kyrana and Hejram had turned their heads at Jomar's exclamation. Abel knelt down to pat Jomar on the back, but Jomar, who was overcome with joy, wrapped his arms around Abel in a hug. Eera stood off to the side, like a tower among willows in the wind.

Abel got up. "Jomar, do you want to give Eera a hug too?" he said tentatively. Eera stiffened, but she needn't have worried.

"No," he said, without an explanation. "What can I do now?"

Abel glanced at Eera with mock solemnity. "Well, we could try the maze, but it is pretty difficult. I don't know if you're ready…"

"Yes I am!" Jomar answered defiantly. "You said I could do it today, you promised yesterday!"

"Did I?" Abel pretended to think.

"Yes, you did. I remember it." Jomar crossed his arms and pouted.

"Alright, if you remember it, then I trust you." Jomar raised his arms in triumph as Abel laughed again. "O.K., O.K., you remember what we went over, right?"

Between the shore of the lake and the island in the center was a vast system of rocks and tunnels. The Jedi had long ago mapped several routes to get from one side to the other (this was the kind of thing Jedi did for fun). Abel had gone over the route with Jomar many times, but Abel had refused to let him go until he was able to hold his breath for three minutes. It should take him only two, but Abel wanted to be sure.

"I know the way," Jomar said, batting away Abel's concern.

"I just want to make sure you are taking this seriously," Abel said, gently gripping Jomar's shoulder. "This is a hard task. It took me several tries."

"But you were bad at things though," Jomar said matter-of-fact. Abel sighed. Once kids found something funny…

"Yes, that's true."

"I'll bet I can beat your first time. Maybe her time, too!" Jomar said, pointing at Eera. "What did you do your first time?"

"Alright, that's enough, Jomar," Abel said, guiding him back to the task at hand. Besides, Eera was looking slightly sickly.

Abel took Jomar by both shoulders and positioned him just so in front of where the underwater maze began.

"Breathe, Jomar. Breathe." Jomar's breath came out in little puffs, and Abel couldn't help but smile at the little sound.

A small breeze rippled across the lake.

"The Force will not abandon you without breath. Let it guide you, let it dwell within you…" Abel continued the chant that they had been taught, but it was always easier to master your breath when you are doing nothing; it is much harder when you are pulling through the water.

"Go when you are ready."

Jomar stood before the lake, his eyes closed. Several seconds went by. Just as Abel thought there might be something wrong, Jomar dove into the water and entered the maze.

Abel and Eera watched the surface of the water which betrayed nothing about what was happening underneath.

Abel turned to Eera. "Are you O.K.? You seemed a little…off."

She stared ahead. "I am fine."

Abel continued to stare at Eera, hoping she might say what was bothering her. He knew she was never one to betray her feelings, but still he hoped.

Her dark purple eyes flicked to his, but darted away, narrowing.

The birds in the trees behind them whistled.

Abel thought he heard her stir, but then he heard a shout from the right. Kyrana and Hejram were hailing him. He raised up his hand in reply, but they waved more vigorously.

"Keep an eye on Jomar, will you?" Abel said. Eera could see Jomar's heat through the water. "I'll go see what they want." Abel jogged across the lakeshore grasses and over to the girls.

Kyrana had that bubbly look about her one usually sees on the faces of tipsy people. She wouldn't look Abel directly in the eye and kept looking pointedly at Hejram. Hejram seemed to finally lose whatever battle of wills was going on and huffed.

"Fine, I'll ask him, but for the record, it was Kyrana who brought it up," she said to Abel, amidst Kyrana's protestations. Now Abel was intrigued. "You know the namiko flower?"

"Yes…" Abel said, puzzled.

"What do you think it smells like?"

"Smells like?"

"Yeah."

Abel jerked his head. "I don't know…a flower?"

Hejram began to hum with laughter, but Kyrana kicked her. "Can you describe it?"

"Why is this funny?"

"No reason," Hejram said, innocently. "We think the flower smells differently, and we heard that humans…think it smells weird."

"The only thing weird is this conversation," Abel shook his head.

"C'mon, just answer the question, Abel," Kyrana said, smirking.

"I don't know…freshness? Like the opening of something new. But also…a tangy smell, like wine."

"Do you find it…intoxicating?" Hejram busted out laughing, like a hyena.

"I haven't really smelled them enough to know."

"Maybe you should sample them more often."

"Maybe I should."

"Fine, fine…" Kyrana interrupted. She seemed embarrassed from making fun of Abel. "Thanks for solving our argument."

"But what even was your argument?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. She glanced back at him. Abel bugged his eyes out. She laughed again, and waved him away.

"A freshness and wine," Hejram laughed again.

"What? I didn't know how to describe –"

"Abel?" Kyrana said, changing the subject, "where is your youngling?"

"Oh! He's going through the maze…" Abel looked over to the island. Jomar was not there. Had he come back already? But then he glanced to where he had started, but only Eera was there.

 _What…?_

Abel took off at a run.

"Where is he?" he demanded of Eera. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. "Did he come out?" The look on her face told him all he needed to know. But he couldn't understand. Surely, she could see him. Eera looked at him, fear in her eyes, but something else, as well…

He understood. "Where is he?"

"A-about three quarters across."

Abel Force-leapt into the water with an angry splash. He shook his face clear, then stroked over to the spot and dove down.

The silent underwater pounded his ears as he drove down. He found one of the few entrances and pulled himself into the tunnel, bubbles trailing from his mouth.

 _Which way?_ He turned to his right and began to frantically paddle. He could barely see, light from the sun hardly filtering into the tunnel. He tried to sense with the Force where his youngling might be, but he couldn't concentrate.

 _Jomar!_ he shouted with his mind.

He reversed course and swam back the other way along the tunnel.

 _Where are you, where are you?_

He had to find him. _But what if…_ No. No.

Suddenly, Abel bumped into something. Jomar! His body was floating in the middle of the tunnel. Abel grabbed him and realized what had happened: Jomar has hit his head; blood was seeping away like smoke. Abel tried to drag Jomar, but he couldn't move fast enough and in all his panic, he was running out of air.

Just then, he saw a shadow pass into the tunnel. Kyrana hovered near the hole, illuminated by the sun. Frantically, Abel squealed, releasing the last bit of air he had left. Kyrana slithered over to him, and, passing Jomar onto Kyrana, Abel crawled out of the tunnel alone and shot to the surface, wrenching those first sweet gulps of air.

They made it back to the lakeshore where Hejram helped them lay Jomar on the ground while their youngling and Eera looked on.

Kyrana got right to work, placing her hand on Jomar's sternum. She placed a few fingers on Jomar's injured head, but decided it could wait.

Abel watched, hardly daring to breathe. _Please, please, Kyrana…_

She closed her eyes, and with one hand on Jomar's stomach, and the other above his mouth, pulled with the Force, and Jomar choked back to life.

Abel let out a shuttering sigh as Jomar turned over to hack out the remaining water. Kyrana looked at Jomar's forehead again.

"This does not look too bad. Can you sit up?" she asked Jomar kindly.

He nodded uncertainly. "I think so." Kyrana held him and helped him to a sitting position. He began to stand, but fell against Kyrana.

"Here, I'll take him," Hejram offered.

"Thanks," Kyrana said, passing him off to her mentee. Kyrana was tired enough from her swim and healing. Hejram began to lead Jomar off to the temple.

Kyrana let out a puff, and looked to Abel and Eera. "What happened?"

Eera glanced fearfully at Abel.

Abel had understood, as cruel as it might sound. Umbarans were never known for their compassion; in fact, they were trained and born with an inclination for mistrust and loathing. Every day, she had to fight against her natural programming as an Umbaran to become a Jedi. Today, when she was reminded of Jomar's future, she was reminded that he could very well supplant her, as any of these Jedi could. And when she saw him struggle, she slipped.

"It was my fault," Abel answered. "I should have been paying more attention. Eera didn't know how long Jomar was supposed to be underwater for, and if she hadn't been paying attention, I might not have known where to look."

"Oh," Kyrana said. She quickly nodded a thank you to Eera, but refocused on Abel. "Sorry for distracting you."

"Don't be sorry. It was my fault."

Abel glanced to Eera. He had hoped to see her subside into relief that all would be well, that he wasn't going to speak about her inaction, but instead, she looked even more distressed. She was frowning at the ground as if trying to comprehend why the grass even existed at all.

Kyrana touched Abel's arm.

"These things will happen, Abel. Do not be angry with yourself."

He nodded, thankful for her kindness even if it was misplaced.

Kyrana looked up to the sky where the sun burned in its zenith.

"It is past midday. We should be getting to class."

They trudged back to the temple side-by-side, Eera trailing like a ghost behind them.

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It was hot; so Master Pit had thrown open the windows wide of their practice gazeebo as they prepared for their latest bout. Abel retrieved his saber from his cubby and prepared to duel with And, focusing on the fourth movement in Form III – Soresu – lightsaber combat.

They had graduated from wooden sticks to sabers only a couple months previously. These weapons were called " _steelsabers_ :" they were long metal rods that were perfectly balanced like lightsabers, but instead of cutting their opponent in half, they delivered a nasty shock. While not enough to incapacitate, they were certainly painful enough to avoid at all costs.

"Argh! Dammit!" Abel yelled as And got another shot inside. Abel had been dancing around And nicely – Abel's footwork was his specialty – but finally And was able to time his jab perfectly and shock his ribs. Besides, Abel was quite distracted this afternoon.

"Oooohh…tsss…sorry," And winced. Abel glared at him, but at least And looked genuinely sorry, rather than his normal sarcastic-ass self. Abel's brow softened.

"That's alright, you had to do it."

"I know, I really did. You were leaving your left side _so_ wide open it was almost insulting not too."

 _Ah. There it was._

"Oh, hell no." And laughed and Abel twirled his saber like a baton before sweeping it forward for a slice. And danced out of the way and brought his saber up in second position guard, two hands on the saber held about pelvic height, pointed up and away. Abel mirrored his guard and faked left, then right, then attacked left. Three quick strikes of metal on metal and they parted again.

And twirled his saber around his wrist. Evidently, it was a designed distraction, for suddenly And was on Abel and he just managed to parry the blow to – of all places – his left rib cage. And smiled and Abel tried a slight swipe towards his shoulder. Quick as a snake, And wheeled his saber around and knocked Abel's in the direction his was going, causing him to lose his balance. Abel could almost feel the sting, so he continued moving in the direction And shoved him, turning in a circle before meeting And's final strike with a guard.

"Ha!" And laughed as they pulled apart again. Abel was proud of himself for that one. And had tried the fourth movement they had been practicing – a backhanded parry and counterattack – but Abel simply countered with one of the guiding principles of Soresu: turning. The principle of 'turning' was easy in theory, but nebulous in application; you must turn your opponent's offense into your own, fluid in your actions, never wasting a hair. So Abel allowed himself to follow where And had pushed him, falling off balance and twisting around instead of flailing and trying to stop the fall.

And was nodding and smirking. "I see, I see what you did there."

"Really?" Abel asked innocently. "What'd I do?"

"OK, you can play coy if you want, but I got my eye on you." On the "you," And force-jumped at Abel, swinging a downward strike, which Abel just managed to avoid by rolling out of the way.

"Hey! Cheater!" Force moves like that were not part of the Soresu technique.

"You do what you gotta do," And said, resuming his attack. After several exchanges, Abel attempted the backhand parry, but he simply didn't have the necessary skill and it lamely tapped And's saber allowing him the opportunity for a final thrust.

Abel sank down, reeling from the pain. It felt like something was lodged deep in his shoulder, grinding, _cracking_ his very bones. Abel grasped it, rocking back and forth until it began to subside.

And was shaking his head. That was three in a row so far today for And, while Abel hadn't managed to land a strike. _Still_ , Abel thought, _he was satisfied with the progress he was making. I mean, it was And after all. He was much better than he_.

He admitted as much and And nodded solemnly. "Yes, you do have to take that into consideration." They continued smack talking each other as they got set for another bout until Master Pit interrupted each other.

"Initiate!" Abel dropped his guard and saw Master Pit storming at them. A couple other initiates looked over. Abel felt his face go red, but couldn't think what she was finding such fault with.

"Initiate, did I hear you discussing with Initiate Kino here," she paused, indicating to And. She looked rather ruffled. "That you were satisfied with your performance?"

Abel frowned. Was he not supposed to be? "I did say that." She stared at him. "Yes, I am…or thought I was."

"Tell me, do you enjoy the feeling that these sabers inflict?" Abel turned even redder and heard Tiloa bark, then stifle her giggles.

"No. I definitely do not."

"I would think that would be enough inspiration for you to occasionally win your bouts. Or if that is not enough, maybe the fact that your friend here has completely dominated you."

"Well, I don't know about that," Abel said. "I actually got in quite a few –"

"You lost. Three times. Does it matter if you twirled into position once?" So she had seen that. Abel was at a loss. When he had practiced sports back on Earth, the coaches were usually less concerned with the outcomes of games or points, and more concerned with how he was mastering a certain technique. At least, in practice.

"When we are going through the forms, yes," Master Pit answered. "But your bouts should be treated seriously. How do you expect to emerge alive from a true battle when you do not do so here? While Initiate Kino may have used a move more suited to the Ataru style, he at least succeeded. I expect the same effort from you." She walked away and the rest of the class returned to their own bouts.

"Eesh," And grumbled. "What's up her butt today?"

Abel's face was bright red. _Why did she have to single him out?_ But of course, she couldn't have known why he was so distracted. He made eye contact with Kyrana across the way who nodded at him. He held up his saber.

A few minutes later, he was back on the ground with electricity coursing through his ribs.

.

They packed up as lightning crackled ominously in the sky. The air was still dry, but this was the first hint that the rains that usually poured over the Tython Temple this time of year were finally coming. They were unusually late this year.

Tiloa caught up with And and Abel as they were leaving. Abel noticed Tiloa's partner, Lena, still on the ground.

"What happened to her?"

"Oh," Tiloa said with a sour look. "Our last bout was particularly tough, but I still got her in the end. She only got me twice today."

Tiloa winked, but Abel groaned inwardly. She hadn't experienced his ten or so ventures of pain. At least he did get And twice, too. _So_ , he thought, _same as Lena_.

"She's probably still on the ground more out of shame," Tiloa said. "She's slipped in the rankings. And's only a couple points out and I'm right behind."

They kept talking about them while Abel tuned out. He thought the whole thing was stupid. _Rankings? Shouldn't wise Jedi know that they would only breed competition and contempt?_ It wasn't just that he was second-to-last (he had passed Lev some months ago). He didn't like what it did to people.

"So," Tiloa said, turning to Abel. "You're coming tonight?"

He had completely forgotten. Today was the last day of regular classes before they began preparing for their final Initiate Trials. Unlike the Jedi Trials which granted them the rank of a full Jedi Knight, the Initiate Trials were a series of tests designed not to pass or fail, but as a demonstration to prospective masters to adopt them as padawans. Their class would then spend the next month studying and preparing for these trials. Tonight, Tiloa was throwing the whole class an end-of-class party at her cabin, the most spacious of the student cabins.

"Ye-es, of course I'll be there."

"Hmm," she said, frowning. "I can sense you are ill-at-ease. Did you forget?"

"No, c'mon, no. Well yes…a bit." He had always planned on being there, ever since Tiloa brought it up two months ago, but he had just forgotten that morning. He usually spent the evenings after combat with Lev and Kyrana. But of course they would be at Tiloa's tonight too.

Before Abel could ask, Zek beat him to the punch. "Is Lena coming?"

Tiloa rolled her eyes. "Yes, _you_ would wonder. At least, she was invited."

"She may just come to confiscate the Nectarwine," And said.

Tiloa scowled.

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Five hours later, the sun had set and night had fallen over the forest, but flashing lights and music blared out of one cabin in the woods. Outside the wind was picking up, tossing leaves through the air and the clouds were gathering dark.

Abel couldn't help but chuckle over the rim of his glass as he surveyed the party before him. It reminded him of a middle school party, an imitation of something seen once, perhaps in a movie, with everyone put in a role they didn't really know how to play. Most of these initiates had been here since they were young children and though they went back to their families on vacations, they had never really experienced the normal life of a teenager. _That is, assuming the galaxy operated like 21st century America. Which it actually did to a surprising degree._

The music that played overhead was from a playlist Tiloa had found (not made). She kept encouraging everyone to dance, but nobody really wanted to, and when they did, they looked like swaying dopes. Most of them were doing what Abel was doing: nursing their drink on the outskirts of the room, chatting in small groups.

Abel found himself sitting next to Kyrana and Odo, making the three of them three of the worst conversationalists of the class (besides Lev). After a minute or so of awkward silence punctuated by the grumbles from the sky outside, Abel couldn't stand it much longer.

"So…Odo, how are you feeling about the trials?" It was a lame question.

"Adequate. I will be prepared by the first day." His voice was low and gravely with the choppy precise cadence of a robot. His orange eyes swiveled towards Abel.

"I must be prepared. Duros do not take liberties with their studies like you humans do."

 _Oh yes, see, this is why I don't talk to you very much_ , Abel thought.

Kyrana edged into the conversation. "I always thought Duros were more…carefree."

Odo hissed. "A select few of us have made it their business to gallivant across the galaxy like hobos. They do little to help our cause."

"Your cause?" Abel didn't really know much about Duro culture.

Odo clammed up, but after a few seconds, reluctantly continued. "It is not proper conversation. But every Duro knows the stain that the Nemoidians have left upon their father people."

Abel nodded politely. He _did_ know the basic outline of that relationship. Duros had colonized the planet Nemoidia centuries ago, resulting in a divergent species, Nemoidians, who were renowned throughout the galaxy for their avarice and cunning.

"In their greed they came back to their father planet not as allies but as conquerors. They stole our spirit. Ever since, the Duro people have become a shell of our selves. We are a people dying. This is why you see so many Duros who have left; they feel no pride and have no shame for their desertion."

But Kyrana, like Abel, didn't really understand. "I do not see a problem. Your people are successful, respected. You have seen no war, yet my people…many of them still starve or are sold as slaves. You do not know tragedy."

Abel looked at Kyrana who was shaking with anger. He didn't know.

"I didn't know things were so bad on Ryloth." She looked at Abel.

"Ryloth? No, not according to our 'Union.' A useless government, handpicked not be its citizens but by its shareholders."

"No," Odo interrupted, "your people's problems are like many in the galaxy. You never grew past your dependence on farming and your people refuse to take responsibility for their own protection. My people are perpetually kept down not from our laziness, but from the eternal struggle with the Nemoidian betrayers. We are unique in this."

"It is not just on Ryloth. You would never know, you are probably one of them, but Twi'leks everywhere –"

They would not doubt have continued to argue until the Force got involved but suddenly there was a gathering rumble, a revving crackle and a deep _boom_. The flash of light was blinding. But when they looked outside, a faint red glow was pulsing. A fire had started deep in the Tython woods.

Tiloa quickly called the temple to report, but they assured her it was too far away and if the fire did creep too close, they would deal with it.

Off in the distance the fire grew until a whole hillside was burning. Except for an occasional murmur, the ten classmates were glued to the windows. The light from the far-off fire bathed their room in a faint orange and Abel couldn't help but think of a fireplace on a winter's night. He could almost imagine he heard the crackles. But he shook his head. The monster, though far away from them, was reeking terror throughout the forest. Tragedy on the earth can seem like beauty to those in the clouds.

Kyrana stalked off to the kitchen, which, unlike in Abel's cabin, was its own room. Abel followed. He had expected to find her filling her cup to the brim, but instead she was washing it clean. She saw him looking and smirked.

"I think I have had enough tonight."

Abel shrugged. "To each her own."

"Hmm." She grabbed a towel and dried her cup. "Still, I should not have yelled at Odo. That was…ill-done." She set her clean cup back into the cabinet with a thunk. She continued to stare out the window at the fire light.

Abel wanted to ask her what she had meant about her people, but he didn't know how to ask politely. So he stayed silent.

"Have you heard any news of your youngling?" Kyrana asked abruptly.

"Oh," Abel fidgeted, "yeah, he's perfectly fine. Master Prada took him to the medic and he said Jomar should be right as rain by tomorrow."

Another thunderclap sounded outside, causing Abel to jump, but Kyrana stood still in thought.

"I still do not understand why Eera did not alert you sooner. She can see heat, can she not?"

Abel hesitated. "Yes…but I think it is hard to see when he is so far under water and rock. And when he did not appear, she probably froze."

"Hmm," Kyrana said, tilting her head, "not the best response."

"But an understandable one for a youngling."

"I do not really know if she counts as a youngling," Kyrana cautioned. "After all, she is only perhaps a year or two younger than me."

"But you're practically the baby of our group," Abel joked.

"Oh really?" Kyrana said slyly. She crossed her arms and stared at Abel. "I don't think you really want to go there." She tried to look serious, but once Abel started laughing, she couldn't help herself and laughed into her hands.

"By the way," Abel interrupted, "what was all that by the lake about the namiko?"

Kyrana waved him off. "It was nothing. A silly game." She wouldn't meet his eye.

"What sort of game?"

She smiled, looking out the window, then sighed. "It is nothing to bother about, Abel. We were only having fun at your expense. Only…" Abel continued to stare at her, and she rolled her eyes. "We had heard that humans found the scent intoxicating. We wanted to see if it was true."

"Oh."

She seemed about to let it go, but then her eyes fell upon a cup of nectarwine on the kitchen table. She glanced curiously at Abel.

"You did say the flower smelled like wine. Does it smell like this?" She picked up the cup and smelled it. She took a long sniff. She shrugged. "I don't get it."

She held the wine out to Abel, her two hands enveloping the cup like an offering.

Abel took the cup. He looked over the deep red wine at Kyrana's face and sniffed.

It had the tangy scent of namiko, the scent that got stuck in your nostrils and pulled at your mind. He said so to Kyrana.

"But it has none of namiko's freshness."

Kyrana nodded. "This is true. Beautiful flowers always smell fresh."

"What flowers?" Lev waddled into the kitchen.

Abel and Kyrana looked at each other and burst out laughing

"Nothing, Lev" Abel answered. "We were being silly."

Lev had clearly felt abandoned by his only two friends. So they went with him back to the party.

.

The party had faded. The music was abandoned, shouts were cut off, drinks were sipped instead of chugged, and they all sat listening to the beating silence. In an effort to renew the vigor, Tiloa started asking people to tell stories.

She asked if anyone had a secret they had never shared. And said that once when he was twelve, he snuck into Master Yul's personal room, just to prove it. Tiloa announced her crush on Nobe Grinspar, a newly made Jedi Knight.

"Let's hope he's not in need of a new apprentice or else things could get a little awkward," And commented. Tiloa's eye twinkled.

Zek revealed he had actually successfully cheated on a couple tests a few years ago. While most in the class asked how he did it, Lena sniffed haughtily.

"Just remember everyone; these words don't leave the cabin. Initiate pledge," Tiloa said, mockingly holding up her hand.

Like Tiloa, Kay had a romantic confession. "Yeah, I know you two know this, but I kissed I guy back at home on Coruscant a year ago. It didn't work out though," he said. It's a little hard maintaining a long term relationship while at the Jedi temple.

Abel couldn't get over how middle school it all was.

They continued talking in this vein for a while as the night lengthened, the wine flowed and the fire burned. Their voices became hushed and husky and several of them shook talking of such things. Their whole life had been spent in school. Their only real friends were the ones sitting in this room. It was as if they were blind, feeling their way through a house together they had never seen but had been inhabiting for years. Only through their combined observations could they come to glimpse it.

Yes, they had read things, mostly on their own, and seen things too, but that wasn't the same as understanding them. Humans, Twi'leks and Togrutas all worked in similar ways, and when And brought this up in contrast to his own, Abel, Kay, Lena, Tiloa, Kyrana and Puli all blushed. Puli was a Tholothian, making her a subspecies of human. Abel asked what that meant, but, meeting her eyes, he tried to seem only interested in the scientific description she was giving. Abel figured that he himself was in a similar state as Puli; a "near-human" as they called it. For Lena, Kay and the other "humans" of the galaxy, though a rainbow of colors, all had similar features that seemed slightly alien to Abel, like a slimmer facial proportion and a slightly iridescent skin.

The orange glow still flickered through the room when they began to uncover things they never knew they didn't know. Lena's face like the flames outside soon flickered out the door, leaving the scent of namiko to waft in from the outside. Delicate as a stem, the flower yet sprung, Kyrana sat erect, but shifted, sifting through the scene, passing to a room unseen. Drifting, Abel thought the night was like being in water, where even his vision rippled and waved. He lay down in dreams to the sounds of whispering delight and the crackling light of the fire outside.

In the morning, Kyrana looked to the western world. The sun had not yet risen, but light graced her face in the early dusky dawn.

"The fire is out. Look, the rain has come." Abel looked and indeed it had. The rain had put it out.


	9. Chapter 9: Weak Force

A/N

I know this has nothing to do with this story, but _Allez les bleus! Vive le France!_

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Pronunciation Guide:

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New Concept/Word

The Cerean writer and trees

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* * *

Chapter 9: Weak Force

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Everyone threw themselves into preparing for the final trials and had little time for feelings. Each student was left to their own devices when it came to preparing. Teachers were always willing to meet with their students during their time off and Abel often sought them at these times for extra help. Even after two years, he still felt his education riddled with cracks. Others like Zek and Odo preferred studying alone. Zek talked about waking up just after dawn and studying late into the night with only occasional breaks for food and to go to the bathroom. Abel didn't think this was healthy and told Zek so.

"On the contrary," Zek said, "it is wonderful preparation for my future. I expect I will have to work similar hours on occasion." Abel didn't know exactly what he wanted to do, but he knew it wasn't whatever Zek was hoping for."

Then there were And and Tiloa who preferred the "let it be" method.

"Look, I already know what I know. I don't think killing myself for the next month will make much of a difference." Tiloa agreed.

The three of them were sitting by Tiloa's cabin. Abel had his desk propped up on his legs, reading over several articles on the Mandalorian Wars that the others knew like the back of their hands. Tiloa had just finished exercising – Force jumping and pushing around the woods – and was reclining on the porch, letting her sweat evaporate. And was lying on a u-shaped root of a tree, levitating a tree branch.

"That's because you're not a masochist like me," Zek called from inside, and And let out a barking laugh. Zek still had "mounds of work to do," but he let them convince him to at least get some fresh air…by opening up the windows.

But surprisingly, Zek followed his own voice out the door.

"Oho! And the mynock emerges from his cave!" And called.

"Mm, I thought I might get some movement in. You up for another go, Tiloa?"

"You're not really my type…" And and Abel snickered as Zek scowled. "No, I'm done for the day. Take Abel though, he needs a walk."

Actually, Abel had been ready to volunteer anyways. Zek was an easy person to be with one-on-one; perfectly willing to engage in conversation or not depending on the situation. Abel put down his desk, shrugged off his robe and started jogging with Zek.

After only a few minutes, Abel called a halt. Man, he was out of shape.

"If you hadn't stopped I would have soon. I'm dying," Zek wheezed. _At least it's not just me_. They took a few sips of water from their belts.

The forest here was getting thick with vegetation. It was a far cry from the beautiful halls of Nak's tended forests up north. Here the colors were thick with grayish brown and green.

"It sure is pretty here," Zek said calmly. Abel looked at Zek. He often became what Zek called "melancholy" but Abel called "poetic."

"Is it pretty on Cerea?"

"Yes, very much so," Zek acknowledged of his home planet. "My father was a Council official, in charge of overseeing economic practices in the sectors of Cerea. That's why we often moved around a lot; it was because of his job. But I got to see a lot of my planet…in my early years."

"You came here when you were ten, right?"

"Yes. Maybe that's why I remember my planet being so pretty. Everything seems pretty in your memories of childhood."

They broke off, thinking of their own planets far away.

"It reminds me," Zek started, "of a Cerean writer. He compared life's memories to the flowering buds of trees. He wrote how we are the trunk, the center, our memory the branches which spiral out in a web, and our happy moments are those blossoms; they are always at the edges, and bloom so infrequently, and are so delicate that only a week passes and the winds carry them away. Of course, the Cerean trees to which he is referring only blossom on the very edges of branches and are far away from the trunk, and the blossoms bloom as many as twenty times throughout the year but are gone in a matter of days. It makes more sense if you are a Cerean."

But Abel assured him the metaphor was apt for an Earthling too.

"You really are a poet, aren't you."

"Me? No," Zek said laughing. "That's not even poetry. The writer was merely trying to describe how we should live. He said that we should be a tree that is always in blossom, so much so that even the trunk blooms in color. This is the summation of his thousand page treatise. It's for fun," Zek adds, looking to the woods with a sigh. "I thought of it because the trees here don't ever seem to blossom and it feels odd to me."

Abel agreed. Though the woods of Tython stood in sharp relief, as if in high definition, and hummed with tremendous energy, they were not colorful. _But that allowed them a certain endurance_ , Abel thought. _They could be green and gay in the sunlight, but gray and groaning in the night._

The light was dimming as Zek and Abel started to head back. They had climbed a couple trees, lifted some rocks…you know, usual Jedi stuff.

They stopped once more, this time for Zek to relieve himself. They had wandered into an area recently burned from the fire in the night. Abel started to prod a charred trunk that still had a couple hot embers when he thought he heard a thwacking sound off in the woods. He started off in that direction, wondering what someone would be doing there. It almost sounded like someone was cutting down a tree.

As he neared the sound, he heard accompanying grunts and realized they must be the sounds of fighting. He assumed it was practice, but then he heard a cry and ran through the white bones of trees and dusty ash and stumbled onto the scene.

Lena was mercilessly beating Lev with her steelsaber. Evidently, they had come here to train, but things had gotten out of hand. Lena looked like she was in a trance: her arms moved swiftly and precisely, but as if they were destined to move to each position; he face was devoid of emotion, a blank mask of total solemn serenity; a Jedi master would be proud. But she didn't seem to realize that with each successful prod, Lev was hit again and again and was staggering under the onslaught. He was a pitiful creature, a giant of an Ortolan stung over and over, pleading, weeping for mercy. But just as Abel was going to cry out, Lev suddenly shivered and his eyes grew dark.

He began to sing. The notes and utterances were staccato and trembling, pouring out like a swift running river. The light of the sun seemed to dim over the forest of ash and bone. Then Lena stopped. Her saber fell and her trance broke. Her eyes bulged and her lip quivered. She began to back away. But then she stopped and raised her hand to her head. Then her hand started for her neck. And Abel realized what was happening.

Lena stared at her own hand in fear. Her breaths were so fast she couldn't even manage a scream. Her fingers curled around her throat.

Abel shouted, coming forward.

"Lev, stop your singing! Levenbro!"

At the sound of his full name, Lev started to blink and the singing faded away. Light came into the woods again. Lena slumped to the ground, hyperventilating, and touched pieces of burned and broken wood, trying to grab onto something.

Abel didn't know what to do, but suddenly Zek burst through the trees. He saw Lev and Lena in complete disarray, lying on the ground in shock.

"What happened?"

All Abel could manage was: "Fetch a master."

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It was evening. Lev and Lena had been rushed to the Temple where the masters awaited to hear their sides of the story. Abel and Zek came along as well as witnesses, along with their entire class who came to watch, having been told by Zek. They met in the sitting room.

It was an odd room. It was circular like most of the rooms in the Temple, but otherwise it was different. Comfortable couches laid about the room in various groups and angles, while plants sat and hung about. The floor was carpeted. The room was specifically built to cater to outsiders who came to the Temple, so it was modeled on comfort.

Lena spoke first. She said how she called on several of her classmates to practice dueling, but they refused until Lev agreed. They went into the woods to practice, deeper than normal, because Lev requested it to avoid others watching him. After several minutes of fighting, Lena tried to impart her skills to Lev, but he was unreceptive. She became frustrated, but agreed to simply hone her own skills. She focused her energies and began to channel the light side of the Force, which guided her own movements. She had done this before, she said. The next thing she knew, Lev was singing and the woods became dark. She felt a pounding in her head then she realized she couldn't move. The next thing she knew, her own hand was moving to choke her own neck. That's when she heard a shout and everything stopped.

Master Prada nodded politely. He was the master that Zek had found, and he in turn reached Master Yul, the other master listening to Lena's story.

Also listening to Lena's story from across the room, the classmates whispered between themselves.

"Oh, come on," Kay whispered. "Who's gonna believe Lev's channeling the dark side?" That was certainly what Lena was implying.

"She's probably making it all up," Tiloa spat. Abel felt obligated to interject.

"Not entirely…" Abel didn't know how much to say. He wanted to protect Lev, but it did look bad. Even so, his friends didn't seem convinced.

"What, you think Lev _did_ channel the dark side?" Kay snorted. Kyrana, who had been sitting rigidly, glared at Kay.

But at that moment, the masters turned to Lev for his side of the story.

The plot details were similar. Lena had asked him to train that day, but as he remembered, it was Lena who suggested going deeper into the forest. They began to train, with sticks at first, and Lev did so poorly that he requested they stop. He wasn't learning anything. Lena tried to teach him, but she soon gave up because he couldn't get it right away. She became frustrated and suggested they use the steelsabers. She insisted and he reluctantly agreed. Then she began to attack him mercilessly, and though he tried to get her to stop, she refused to yield. After the first twenty shocks he began to lose consciousness. He remembered seeing before him a cloaked figure attacking him with a red lightsaber, but he could do nothing to stop it. It felt like a dream. The next thing he knew, Abel was running towards them and Lena was slumped on the ground.

"Hm. I wouldn't be surprised if Lev were making up that bit about the cloaked figure, making it seem like Lena was the one using the dark side," Zek said thoughtfully. "Either way, it still seems that he is shrouded in shadow." Privately, Abel agreed with him.

"You do not know." Kyrana's venomous interjection left them speechless. She had been whispering with Lev as they waited for the masters. "He does not lie."

"You only know what he told you," And said, and Kyrana turned her eye on him, color rising to her cheeks.

"I believe him," Kay said. Kyrana turned to him gratefully. "Obviously. It's right up Lena's alley. She invites him there so she can bully him – remember how much she's been failing recently – then she creates this story about Lev singing to cover up the fact that in her rage she became a Sith."

"Ah – O.K., Kay," And said, with his hands up, "I don't think you 'become a Sith' when you channel the dark side."

"Whatever, you know what I mean."

"He's kind of right, though," Tiloa said. "It's the horseshoe theory. She's such a light side zealot that she becomes like a Sith."

"Abel, didn't you say that Lena looked possessed?" Kay asked him. Abel started to equivocate, but Kay cut him off. "Exactly. She says she's channeling the light side, and you and Lev seem to say she's channeling the dark side. It's all meaningless. What matters is that she purposefully lost control of herself and inflicted pain. 'Oh no, it wasn't me it was the Force…' Bulls**t! It was her and her alone. And if she did go into some altered state, she shouldn't be doing it if she can't control it. Exactly, Tiloa: horseshoe." At that Kay put up his hands and walked away muttering.

As he paced, And continued the conversation. "I don't know, it seems pretty clear to me that they were both doing some shady things." Looking to Abel, he said: "At least you'll be able to nail Lena –"

"What do you mean 'both of them?'" Kyrana interrupted. Her eyes burned and her normally controlled voice was quivering high. "Lev did nothing wrong."

And held up his hands, and Abel started to shrug. "To me, it definitely seemed –"

But Kyrana grabbed his arm and brought him away from the others. She looked over his shoulders toward Lev, then focused on Abel.

"You can't say anything against Levenbro." She studied him seriously. Abel opened his mouth.

"I…I mean, I have to say what I saw. And it seemed –" Kyrana shook her head frantically.

"No, don't you see? He's already… He's the perfect scapegoat. They" – she nodded towards And, Tiloa and Kay – "don't care about him, they just care about screwing Lena. He doesn't have…support, even the teachers don't think… If they think he has dark tendencies –" She broke off in a huff and blinked several times, looking at Levenbro slumped in a chair as the masters talked patiently with him.

"You love him," Abel stated warmly.

She nodded. "He is my friend. I thought he was yours, as well."

"Abel," Master Prada called. "May we speak with you?" Abel turned to go, but Kyrana grasped his arm.

"I stick by my friends, Abel. It's the only thing." Then she let him go. As he waded through the couches, he caught the eyes of his other friends. And was smirking and he thought Tiloa mouthed 'Get it;' Kay was looking beyond him at Lena, trying not to smile. He looked righteous.

"Abel," Master Prada began as Abel drew near, "can you illuminate this mystery? What did you see?"

He was about to tell how Lena was dominating Lev in a grotesque way, but then he faltered. If he began to describe that, he would undoubtedly have been looking when the singing started. And what could he say? He had certainly seen Lev's mouth moving as the singing began, and besides, he knew what Lev could do: he had seen it in the forest that day when he called the animals. He looked to his friends, clamoring for justice as they would call it, revenge as Abel saw it. All he had to do was describe what he saw, Lena bullying, Lena in a trance, a darkening forest…all true, and all would point to her. But he saw Lena, saw her sitting there legs stuck together and bent daintily like a doll; her hair hung loose and frayed. He didn't have it in his heart to lie against her, not even when it was she that was the cause of all his misery after Bothawui. But could he lie for Lev? He looked equally pitiable, slumped in a chair, all hope of a reprieve surrendered. Kyrana looked on with a clean gaze, stoic; but even then, Abel could detect the hope in her eyes, hope that he would lie to save a friend. _Save him from what?_ But he knew her fear. Lev was an oddball, a loner, and if the teachers believed him capable of what Abel saw, they might well expel him. And even if they didn't, he would be forever marked, forever treated with care, like he might explode at any moment with evil. Abel couldn't be the cause of that, he knew, he just couldn't. He couldn't betray his friend in such a way. But neither could he lie in the way his friends wanted him to. He suddenly welled up with pity for Lena. She was as much an outsider as Lev, perhaps even more so. She had experienced a modicum of friendship in her earlier days here, but as she grew with the Force, so her friends left her and she drew inward. It was the horseshoe all over again, but Lev and Lena were the ends that curved back and met again. But still opposing. It had been terrifying, thinking that each had moments where they could have destroyed each other, but must he now condemn them both? For that is surely what his testimony would show, guilt on both sides. In truth, he didn't believe either guilty of a crime. But his opinion would matter little in the face of his facts. He realized he didn't want this burden. He wanted to leave.

"Abel?" Master Yul prompted. He looked at Abel softly. _He knows_ , Abel thought, _he knows I am struggling to craft a narrative._

Abel looked back once more at his friends, at Kyrana's hope-held eyes, and he burned with shame.

"I don't know. I didn't see much. I…I heard ringing of metal and shouting and I came to investigate. When I arrived, Lena and Lev were locked in combat, but they fell away at my call. I cannot say anything."

Abel bowed his head. He was racked with shaking.

When he looked up, Master Yul was looking with such concern at him he felt so guilty he almost confessed to everything. He suddenly realized how odd the entire situation before him was. Here were two great Jedi questioning students in a sitting room – with their classmates looking on – about grave matters of the dark and the light. He realized that this wasn't a matter of discipline; the masters weren't acting as guardians of the school, but as concerned…parents. They had not insisted that their classmates leave because they themselves were too shaken. They were worried, not angry; worried that a shadow may have fallen on one or two of their children. Lena and Lev weren't to be punished, they would be helped. And Abel had prevented that, instead throwing them into more darkness. But it was too late, for Master Yul spoke, loud enough for the others to hear.

"A shadow dwells here, but we think not in our students hearts." He smiled kindly the three of them. "Something transpired that we cannot comprehend, and each remembers his own differently. Go; sleep tonight. We will think on this more. I hope –" They had turned to go, but Master Yul continued. "I hope that you will treat each other kindly. Feelings often flare in trying times as these. But remember that these are your fellow Jedi and deserve your care. And your trust." With that Masters Yul and Prada went away, conferring with each other, while the students slouched back toward their dormitories.

Abel could see Kay shaking his head, while And and Tiloa refused to make eye contact. Lena turned to Abel and seemed about to speak. She had an odd look on her face, torn between gratitude and scorn. She settled on a quick nod, then sped-walked to the dorms.

Abel fell into step with Lev and like Lena, tried to speak. "Lev…I'm sorry…"

Lev shrugged. "You didn't see anything. I understand." Abel nodded, more for his own sake.

"You know, if there was any way I could have defended you…" But Lev just nodded.

Then he stopped, and placing his squishy hand on Abel's arm, said: "You tried. You're a good friend." A smile flickered then died. Lev left Abel standing there and walked to Kyrana who gently took his hand in hers. She grasped his shoulder then leaned in, hugging him. He broke the hug and moped forward to seek the solace of his lonely room.

Abel started walking, but no sooner had he started than he was thrown back against the wall. He thought he had been force-pushed, but he felt a forearm jab into his windpipe. Kyrana was nearly foaming at the mouth as she spat her words at him.

"You saw nothing? Lies!" She pushed him again against the wall. Abel huffed in pain as his head banged. "You had it in your power to pardon him, yet you say nothing." Another jolt. "Now he's branded as a Sith, you – you –" One last jolt then she released him. Abel fell to the ground clutching his neck.

"Wha – what the hell?"

"You faithless friend!" There were no tears on Kyrana's face, only anger.

"What was I supposed to do? I couldn't lie, I _did_ see him singing, bringing darkness…"

She laughed mirthlessly. "Lie? You said you saw nothing. You're already a liar, but you're a coward and a betrayer too!"

"Maybe I'm a coward, but I did not betray him."

"Yes you did." She quieted. Her soft voice was even scarier than her screams. It shook with emotion. "You betrayed him from the moment you met him. You were never his friend. He was just a stepping stone, someone you could use because you felt oh so out-of-place. The new kid finds the weird kid and makes friends. Great! Then you abandon him for your new friends, but only come back to him when you feel like it."

Abel tried to think. Did he do that? He didn't know.

"Yes, you see? You don't care about what happens to him, really. You just spin your wheels, la-la, and once you're done here, at this wonderful academy, are you going to call on him in his small house? Hmm?" Kyrana was pacing back and forth, letting all her feelings she had harbored toward Abel for two years. "No, by then you'll be on some grand adventure and have no time for him. _I_ am there every time he feels lonely, _I_ am there every time he wants to quit, _I_ am there, at dinnertime or on off-day walks in the woods, _I_ am there every time _your friends_ ridicule or exclude him... And every time _you_ play the middle ground. Even tonight, you refuse to pick a side, you refuse to back your friend."

"I…I couldn't…"

"I would at least have respected you if you told the truth," Kyrana said finally. "At least that would have meant something. But this…" She clenched her fists, intent on rolling on another tirade, but then she blew out a puff of breath and released the tension. She threw up her hands and started to walk away. But then she couldn't resist one last word.

"I stand with my friends. You stand for yourself. That is a difference I cannot reconcile." Then she walked away.


	10. Chapter 10: The Final Begins

A/N

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Pronunciation Guide:

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New Concept/Word

The willow trees on Tython

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* * *

Chapter 10: The Final Begins

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The sun was setting on Abel's time at the Jedi Academy. Soon – hopefully – he would become a padawan, an apprentice to a Jedi master.

What had he accomplished here? Well, quite a lot. He learned how to connect with the Force and harness it to move things with his mind, leap great distances, heal things… He learned about the galaxy and its myriad of peoples. He learned how to calculate faster-than-light travel and how to maintain his own ship (his own spaceship!). He made friends out of aliens.

But those ties were strained. After he refused to speak, the others treated him coolly. They still invited him, but he could tell that there was a gap there that hadn't been before. And of course Kyrana wasn't talking to him. Ironically, it was Lev who seemed most at ease with Abel, and so he often met with Lev in the temple library late in the afternoon to go over empirics and culture.

These should have been the last burst of light of the halcyon days. Yes, they had to prepare themselves for their trials, but they had more free time now than they had during classes. Most of their days were spent lounging or playing. But Abel felt the veil being dragged across. It was a grayer world than before.

Abel loped across the northern fields. This patch of field was lying fallow, growing with wild grasses to return nutrients for a future crop. Seized by an impulse, he sat down and laid back, his head enveloped by the grasses.

Tomorrow was the first test, empirics. He wasn't confident, but he was as prepared as he was going to get.

He reached down to finger some of the grasses. He had hoped to feel better by coming out here, but nothing had changed. The grasses were warm, though.

He felt a slight pulse from the ground. He felt it with the Force. Sitting up, he turned behind him.

"Ah, so ya sensed me, eh?" Nak said, limping over. "I guess your Force abilities have improved." Abel started to get up, but Nak waved him down and joined him on the ground. "Ready for your tests?"

"Mm, yeah," Abel said shrugging.

"Know what you wanna do afterwards?"

Abel grunted. "Of course not."

"Well, you've got time to figure that out…" Nak paused, looking over at his pear trees that were just beginning to bear fruit. "You know, I didn't start out as a farmer. I was one of them red path people."

Abel looked up, surprised. He couldn't imagine Nak like Obi-Wan or Anakin, chasing assassins through the skies of Coruscant.

"I was pretty good, too. I intervened in dispute on Mon Cala, likely stopping a war there. I _got_ involved in a minor war in the outer rim. Killed a lot of people. Man, the things I could do with a lightsaber…" Nak laughed. "But then I got injured. Shot in the leg, blown clean off." He lifted his left pant leg and tapped his shin. Metal. "I took some time off. Went to Ossus to recuperate. They were cooping me up inside all day and I kept looking out. Of course, that area of Ossus is crap, all swamp and what not, but even still, I kept looking at it like the promised land. Eventually, I convinced them to let me out. I even talked to one of the gardeners there and he showed me around. Pretty soon, I was spending all my time there. I loved it. So I told the council, 'Nope, I'm not comin' back, I'm stayin' here.' And that's what I did. A few years later, I came here to Tython to head the farm production."

"Were you even able to return to your old position," Abel asked. "Because of your limp?"

"My limp?! What limp?" Nak brayed. "This limp is 'cause I'm old, not because of my leg. In fact, it's the other leg that giving me the problems." Nak banged his hand on his right leg. "Damn thing. No, I was as fit as a reek. Had to be. It's hard work, let me tell ya. I've got more droids helping out now, and, of course, misbehavin' students when I can get 'em." Nak smiled knowingly. "I didn't fall into it. I discovered it, and realized that was my path."

"It's not the end of my path I'm worried about," Abel confessed. "It the rocky ground I'm on now."

"Ahh well, you just keep moving your feet and you'll find smoother turf."

"But what if you're the cause of your own rocks?"

At that, Nak guffawed, letting out a bellowing laugh that echoed across the plain. "Well, that's the simplest of all. Stop making rocks! You kids always find ways to make your lives harder than they need to be. Tell me, what is the first thing they always tell you about the Force?"

Without hesitation, Abel answered, "It connects us."

"Yes. So do not fight the Force. Flow with it. Connect." Nak continued shaking his head and began to get up. Abel stood up with him. Nak took one last look at the growing things around them.

"I had to learn that to. For me, it was connecting with my plants. I love them. I think for you, it's something else." Nak patted him on the shoulder then, hefting his body, lumbered back to his shack.

As he was getting ready to go, Abel looked down at his feet. There grew a flower of brightest orange. Abel didn't know if he had missed it before. He lightly touched its petals. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought the flower stood a little straighter to reach his fingertips. The petals felt like velvet, so soft they were. For a moment, Abel was tempted to pick it and carry it with him. But he decided against it, and left. Tomorrow was a big day and he needed sleep.

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He was just grateful to get through it. The empirics exam contained over 200 questions and exercises, ranging from describing different planetary environmental zones to labeling genomes to actually constructing a functioning generator to good ol' fashion math problems. Abel was the last one to finish, though he saw several others who looked like they were struggling too, so he didn't feel _too_ out of place.

The next day was their culture exam. Abel felt he performed better on this one, and was reasonably pleased with his explanation on the roles of the Jedi in galactic politics and his analysis of a work by the famous Ithorian artist Mblakba Kwitzel. At one point, Master Kloop passed by during her pacing and, glancing at Abel's desk, dropped a hint on the correct translation of a Zabrak word. Abel had looked up to thank her, but she pretended not to notice. Abel smiled to himself.

The big question on all his classmates' minds was the third and final exam. Apparently, they were to combine all the Force-related subjects into one test. Abel was just sitting down to eat after their culture exam as he heard Tiloa discussing it with And.

She seemed convinced that they would be called one by one in front of all the masters and asked to perform different feats. Abel thought this seemed the most plausible choice and sank lower over his meal.

Tiloa called over and asked for Abel's opinion. He was sitting at the edge of the group, next to Puli. He thought that Tiloa called him more out of pity, and he distinctively saw Kay sniff and look away.

He politely agreed, shrugging, and went back to his meal.

And thought that was too typical, and thought it would be something out of the ordinary. They had tried asking those in the upper classes, of course, but they kept the lid tight on their finals.

Puli nudged Abel and pointed. The others followed her gaze and there, entering the cafeteria, were the masters. In ones, twos and threes they filed in until Abel counted nearly thirty. He noticed Ma Fenn among them.

"They must be the ones in need of a padawan," Puli murmured.

 _Yes,_ Abel thought, _for it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Jedi master must be in want of a padawan_. Abel laughed to himself and waved Puli away when she looked at him curiously. Then, looking at the masters, he laughed again. There was something innately humorous about a bunch of Jedi masters lining up for cafeteria food like a peck of chickens waiting to be tossed their seed by the farmer.

"What are you laughing at?" Puli asked, starting to laugh herself. Abel made noises, but couldn't explain. Soon the whole table was laughing as Abel spilled himself with blue milk.

Looking up, Abel saw Kyrana passing by with her food. He caught her eye and tentatively smiled. But she stared coldly back, then looked away.

Abel stopped laughing and went back to his food as Tiloa asked Kay about his answer to his last essay.

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Today Abel decided to take the scenic tour. It was – hopefully – his last time going to the Temple as an initiate and he wanted to take his time. Instead of leaping over the waterfall as usual, he hiked up the slope from his cabin and met the fall at its source. He looked out across the valley, down to the towering Temple and its collection of buildings and flowering fountains; he even saw the occasional figure scurrying from here to there. Further on and slightly left, he saw the woods, patched with little hovels in the undergrowth, and down the slope he could make out bulky freighters, luxurious cruisers and sleek fighters, the starships of the visitors. Beyond them both, he saw the blackened mass that poisoned the forest, a gaping wound in a sea of life. And of course, looking down and to his right, Abel saw fields stretching for miles to the wood line. He could not smell it from here – he was upwind, saturated with the heavy smell of moist wood and the light scent of the carrying wind – but he could imagine it.

Abel followed his nose, or at least the memory within in, and he slouched all the way down to the fields. But he stopped before it, standing on the ridge. Since ending his time here as a grower, he had still often come back: to study peacefully, to talk with Nak, but mostly to walk by such beautiful things. But it was only now, on this hill, that Abel realized that something had been missing and shading its beauty ever so slightly each new time he came, and that he knew what the difference was. So he turned away and walked down the hill.

Instead of making a bee line for the Temple, he hugged the tree line, gazing into the dark depths. Two shires – hooved creatures with fleshy wings – munched on the undergrowth. One of them suddenly stiffened and sniffed, and, looking straight at Abel, galloped away, the other one following. Abel followed, too, at a run. He stayed out of the woods, but enjoyed running after them, pounding his feet harder and harder, running swifter than any human on his planet with the help of the Force. Each step was like a springboard, the very ground his friend. On seeing him keeping pace, one of the shires let out a bleat and stretched out its wings. The two shires rose out of the forest, beating their wings, and soared into the sky.

Abel stopped running, looking up where they had disappeared into Tython's heavenly mists. He was tempted to try and catch them even then, but he just smiled and shook his head. He turned to his left and walked to the Temple.

He met the main path from the landing port to the Temple. Many times he had walked it, pushing up over rocks and roots. He rounded the bend with the big tree, its roots forming its own web of a hill, twisting its trunk into a bended shape of a bow. Abel touched its trunk as he passed under its branches which curled over the path like an archway. It was a curious tree, Abel had always thought. Most of the trees on Tython were towering, like the redwoods of California, but twice as wide. This tree was diminutive, like the height of any old deciduous tree. He passed by the curling bushes that framed the bend in the path and emerged into the morning sun and the Kelly green Field. The Temple was before him.

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They met in the heart of the Temple. The ten initiates sat on the floor, silently waiting for the masters to begin. Before their other two exams, their nervousness played itself out as energy, with the classmates excitedly talking to take their minds off the impending exam. But today, in this hallowed hall, they sat squirming in themselves. Their nervous energy, unable to spill out, permeated the Force of the room so that Abel's own nervousness was multiplied tenfold. It was uncomfortable to say the least.

Finally Master Yul entered. He stooped to avoid the ceiling lining the border of the sanctuary then straightened up as he hobbled to the center, under the shadow of the ever-turning Ray. The murmuring of the waiting Jedi masters died as he prepared to speak.

"Jedi," he began, in his low, wheezy voice, "you will soon be taken to a place deep within the forests. Your objective is simple: to make it back to the Temple. You will receive no aid." He paused to smile. "I believe that each and every one of you has what it takes to make it back. I have watched you grow to become the Jedi that you are today, and thus I call you Jedi even before you are made so." Abel arched an eyebrow. This was much more sentimental than Master Yul's normal talk. "Your classes on the Force – meditation, movement, mediation, combat – they were designed to hone these skills. But as a Jedi, these must become one; one relationship with the Force. You will not face pre-designed obstacles in the woods, just as you will not face clearly defined puzzles in the forests of the world. It is never clear, the path you take; it is only you who must make the choice, and you must make it over and over again." The Ray, which rumbled behind Master Yul, suddenly appeared to Abel deep gray. "It is time now."

The masters rose and Master Kloop took charge, calling the initiates over to her. They followed her out the door and across the courtyard. They followed her across the lawn and passed the bend in the path and by the gnarled tree. They followed her down the rocky path and across the landing lawn and to a ship.

 _It was happening so fast_ , Abel thought; but truly it had happened very slowly. This was the culmination of his time here, and he had the feeling that it was only partially a test of his classes.

The ship had rows of seats, but no windows. Abel felt the ship shudder, then the familiar sinking of his stomach telling him they had lifted in the air. They were only flying for a matter of minutes before he felt the bump as they touched ground. They filed out one-by-one. They stood awkwardly, waiting for Master Kloop to come out to explain further. But she didn't. Instead, the ship rose and shot away.

The wind from the ship slowly died as the grass in the small clearing stopped its swaying. Two birds twittered by. Leaves in the branches shimmered. A far-off groaning echoed in the woods. They were alone.

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"Welp…" And said, "now what?"

Lena was quick to offer advice. "During the flight, I only felt a slight angle in the ship's movement, so I think we're generally west. Also, I counted the seconds – about 1100 – and figuring a normal cruising speed, I would guess we're about 150 to 180 kilometers away."

Abel saw Odo nodding. Well, if they both agreed that was a good enough estimate for him.

"So about four days, three in a hurry" Zek said. Lena concurred.

"That is," Tiloa cautioned, "if there isn't any trouble."

"And there probably will be," And sighed.

"I don't think so," Lena said in a clipped tone. "We've been in these forests many times and I haven't seen anything dangerous."

Abel looked darkly at his friends. "Mmm, I don't know, Lena. I would imagine the woods near us are safer than out here."

"Well, of course we'll be on our guard," she huffed.

"The bigger question," And said, "is food and water. I don't suppose anyone has anything with them." They shook their heads. "There are probably plenty of edible plants in these woods and animals we could always find. But I don't know about water."

"There are streams all over these woods," Lena said, waving him away. "I'm sure we'll find something soon enough. For now, though, we should get moving. There's no reason to be standing around." She marched straight on through the woods, heading east. They shrugged their shoulders and went on after her.

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They had been weaving through the underbrush for hours and the sun was already high in the sky, beating down on them through the canopy above.

"I think we'll have to readjust our timetable at this rate," And said as he pushed down another thick plant. "It'll take an extra two days, maybe three." The plant swung back to hit Abel in the face.

"And!"

"Oh. Sorry." And didn't even turn around, he was so weary. Abel tried to push the plant down again, but it slipped and hit him in the face again. Figures.

But then Abel did a double-take. The plant seemed to turn as he passed by, as if it were watching him. Looking around him, the dappled forest seemed to mirror the action. Thousands of shafts of light illuminated the forest, but thousands of corners of darkness lingered there as well. And in these dark places Abel sensed a restlessness like a coiled snake. Were there animals watching them?

"We are Jedi, right?" Tiloa yelled. She was at the back. "Why don't a couple of us just _force_ the plants out of the way, clearing a path, and we can take turns."

Abel saw Zek shrug and look thoughtful, but Abel answered quickly. "I don't know. I think we want to keep our presence here quiet."

To his surprise, Lena agreed with him. "Abel's right. Can you not sense it? There's a darkness here."

"So what happened to that 'there's nothing dangerous in these woods' nonsense you were saying before?"

Lena turned and glared at Kay.

"Well there has to be something we can do," Puli said. "Just look at And."

Abel took a closer look at his classmate and he did seem in quite horrible shape. Usually he was so…on top of things.

"Eh," And shrugged, "I'm alright."

"No you're not," Tiloa said, walking to the head of the line. "Nautolans need lots of water. And's dehydrated. We need to find water now."

Abel kicked himself. Of course, they were born in water and were practically amphibious. He didn't even think of it.

"Levenbro needs it, too," Kyrana said, bringing up the rear. The Ortolan was practically dripping with sweat as Kyrana helped him over a log.

Abel saw Lena sneer then sigh. "Well. What do we do?" They stood and thought, huffing and puffing away. Puli put her hands on her hips. And leaned back against a tree. Abel remembered something he read in a book once back home, and looked up. Somehow people always forget that, he remembered.

"How about we broaden our horizons a little bit."

A couple minutes later, Abel was jumping from branch to branch up one of the great Tython trees. As he neared the top, the wind tore at the branches, tossing them left and right. At one point, Abel had to stop moving and ride out one particularly strong gust, gripping the branch with his hands and legs. He finally crested the canopy and looked out before him.

The noontime sun bathed the scene in sparkling green which stretched out for miles in all directions. Looking east, he could see no clear signs of the temple, remembering that the terrain undulated with hills, obstructing his view. But he thought he could see the distant outline of mountains hidden in the low hanging clouds, which was a good sign, for there were mountains to the east of the temple.

He looked around some more, keeping his eyes open for any break in the foliage to indicate a river or lake or…anything. Frustrated, he saw nothing but green. He was about to go down when something caught his eye. There! Over to the right…but no, it was just a rustling in the canopy. A flock of birds emerged and flew into the sky, perhaps scared off.

 _Yep, there they go. Just like all the f–_ But his thoughts were cut short as he saw the birds dive down in formation off to his left and into a clear gap. A gap! And not two seconds later a female yulier gracefully soared out of the same gap. Yuliers could swim underwater as well as fly and were often found near such a source during summer, taking care of their new babies. And it was summer. Well, that was good enough for him.

Abel practically skipped down the branches, paying no mind to the wind as he wound his way back into the oppressing still air of the forest. And telling the others of his hunch, they angled left with hope pressing them on.

After only a short walk, they did indeed find a modest lake and at the far end, Zek spied a running stream entering the lake. Better to drink the running water, they reasoned, and made to round the lake.

And, however, overjoyed to find water, dove straight into the lake. He finally came up again already halfway across and called jovially to his compatriots: "Come on, slowpokes!" He spit out a jet of water over fifty feet long, almost hitting them on the other side. He laughed and kept swimming.

Once they had all had a drink, the next question came: how to store the water. They again checked each other, but found that no one had containers of any kind. Could they make one?

It was And that thought of it. "Obviously," he said, paddling over. He had gone back in the lake for a swim. "We've got to do the old split and mend mediation trick." Abel remembered what And was referencing. Now so long ago, the lesson in which they had to mend the rock which Master Prada had broken.

Abel glanced in trepidation at his other classmates. Abel had done it, though barely, and he didn't think it was so exact that it could prevent leaks. Lev looked particularly disheartened.

But everyone went around searching for appropriate sized rocks, which on Tython (thankfully) wasn't too hard to do.

"Won't they be too heavy?" Puli asked. She was holding a rock as big as her head. "I don't know how I feel lugging this for several days."

"It shouldn't be too bad if you hollow most of it out," Zek said. "Besides, you'll want to hollow out as much as you can to fit as much water as you can." Abel saw Kyrana frown then drop her rock and head back into the woods.

Abel had already split his rock in two (an easy task) and was in the process of peeling away its insides when Kyrana came back with bundles of vines.

"I assumed it would be easier if we didn't have to carry these in our hands," she said, and Abel understood. They could wrap their rock-bottles in vines and carry them like a purse, or maybe even a backpack.

"Oh! Good idea, Kyrana," Abel said. She didn't acknowledge him.

After an hour, most of them were putting their two halves back together again. Lena's was already mended and wrapped in vines and she was sitting and huffing on a log. Abel had put his mostly back together, but there were several leaks, so he was continuing the process. Kyrana had taken Lev's from him and was doing it herself as Lev looked on morosely. Abel saw Lena staring at them and shaking her head.

By the time that all their bottles were completed, the sun was already starting to set.

"How about we just stay here for tonight," Kay suggested. "It makes more sense to stay by the lake and get a fresh start in the morning."

"I agree," And said. Of course.

"After all," Puli said, "we're not really on a time limit." But Abel saw Tiloa exchange a look with Zek and Lena look wistfully to the east. Clearly, they disagreed.

They had more helpings of the nuts and berries that lined the lakeshore and got ready to sleep.

"Should someone keep watch?" Tiloa asked. Several of them shrugged.

"I don't know," Abel said. "It might be more important that everyone gets a good sleep."

"But we probably shouldn't sleep on the ground," Zek said darkly. He may not have been on the adventure to get the crystals, but he knew about the creatures that roamed Tython forests at night.

"Zek's right," And said. "We should try to sleep in the trees."

"We'll fall out," Lena said.

"Not in the willows," Puli said, pointing to the bushy trees by the lakeshore, their long branches swaying in the light breeze.

Abel frowned. "Aren't willows pretty weak?"

"Not Tython willows," Puli answered happily. They looked closer at the one nearby and Abel's mouth fell open in shock. Underneath the calm façade, the inner branches of the tree formed a dense tangle, thicker than any bush he had ever seen.

"The dense branches prevent grazing animals or other anything else from getting to the part of the trunk that's still growing," Puli explained. "If that were damaged, the tree would die. And thankfully for us, it's summer, so the branches are covered with the velvety willow leaves. It should be a soft, snug bed."

Abel looked at her skeptically. "How do you know so much about this?"

"Oh, you know," she said, tilting her head this way and that, "I get out and about."

They spread out to different trees and Abel found one with Zek and And. Using the Force, they cleared a path through the dense branches and climbed through the hole.

Settling down, Abel could feel the branches poking him in the butt and back, but the leaves did at least make it a passable cocoon. He heard the grunts of Zek and And getting into comfortable positions. Soon, movement ceased and all was quiet. Night had descended and the air was cool.

"Zek? And? You still awake?"

"What do you think?" came And's sardonic reply.

Abel was quiet for a second, then pressed on. "Well, what _do_ you think? About all of this?"

And sighed. "I don't know. I think we've got to make it to the temple. Is that confusing?"

"Do you think there's, like, a time limit? Zek? Or even a race? Or competition?"

Zek sighed. "Maybe. Tiloa and I were talking about that earlier. But even if there is, we probably shouldn't worry about it. Just stick together and make it there in our own time." But Zek didn't sound completely convinced.

"Or maybe…" And started and Abel heard a rustling as he moved to get a better position. "Zek should just stick with Lena. You were sticking quite close to her during our journey through the forest." Abel and And snickered as Zek groaned.

"I wouldn't laugh so hard if I was you, Abel," And said. "I saw Puli winking at you earlier."

Exasperated, Abel puffed, "What? Puli? I don't know what you're talking about."

And made a doubting noise, then they were quiet.

"I'd settle for that from Kyrana. Not" – he said quickly – "like that. I just wish…that we could at least be friendly."

He heard Zek squirm, but no one said anything. Finally, And answered, "Well, you know Kyrana. When it comes to Lev, she's very protective. And she's one to hold a grudge."

"What about you guys?" Abel asked. "You're not mad at me for that stuff are you?"

And sniffed. "Mad? Why? You didn't see anything. I mean, it would have been nice to nail Lena for something" – Zek squeaked with a 'hey!' – "but oh well."

"But Kay –"

"Kay has his own thing with her that I don't really get," And said. "Something happened with them before you came, I don't really know. But don't worry about that. And don't worry about Kyrana," he added. "She has her things. You just got caught in the middle."

"We talked about it that night," Zek said. "Tiloa, And and I. Obviously, you did the best you could. It seemed to us that you were caught in the middle of something, that you saw something but didn't really know what to make of it. We won't ask you," Zek said quickly, for Abel had started to speak, "because it doesn't really matter. Although, Tiloa does really want to know." They snickered. "But we're sorry if it seemed like we were pressuring you to say something. We didn't mean to."

Abel was suddenly very glad for Zek. Tiloa and And could often overlook things, and he had a feeling that it was Zek, for all his logical and analytical ways of looking at the world, was really the one who made them see.

"Well…thanks." Zek grunted in reply. Several minutes went by and no one spoke. Soon, Abel could hear the even breathing of his friends.

Abel laid his head back against the tangle of branches. He had a knot in his stomach as he thought over his inaction a month before. His thoughts turned over and over themselves, never leading anywhere. The thick web of branches above him twisted into such tight knots. He couldn't even see the light of the stars above.

.

They set out again next morning as the sky was already blue with day. Lena had woken up at dawn and shook the tree until And barked at her and flicked his finger, apparently knocking her down with the Force. She stopped trying after that.

Once everyone was up, they set off. There was no need to "break camp" because of course they had nothing to pack up. They did collect some nuts and put them in their pockets. Then they hopped over the small stream and continued on their way.

Although the going was still slow, it felt lighter than the previous day. They felt like they had a plan, they had a source of water, they had done it all the day before…

 _Really_ , Abel thought, _it's not that bad. It's just another walk in the woods._

 _Zip it!_ Another part of Abel's mind shouted. _That's when we get into trouble._

 _But, other self, we have water and food, we're ten Force users, nothing's going to attack us, the sun is shining…_

 _No! Things are lurking behind every corner! Don't relax into a false sense of security, that's always when bad things happen._

Abel, taking his own advice, stretched out with his senses and his eyes for several minutes. Then he mentally shrugged. _It's fine. There's no need to go all Gollum over this._

He joined Zek and Abo's conversation. They were talking about getting their own starships as Jedi and how they'd build them.

"So, you're planning on building your own ship?" Abel asked.

"Of course," Odo said drily. "That is, after all, where I plan to apply myself as a Jedi."

"Oh. Right. And you, too, Zek?"

"Mmm…" Zek thought, "my field is more biology. I'd probably just rather rely on Odo's advice."

"What, are you offering free ship vouchers?" Abel said jokingly.

"I don't know about these 'vouchers,'" Odo answered. "But of course I'd build you a ship. That's what I plan to do." Abel didn't really know how to answer. He had never spent much time with Odo, but was he offering to design a ship for him? Taishi Odo had never struck Abel as an especially generous person.

As they continued walking and talking, the ground gradually sloped downward. The air became even more stagnant and soon they were all sweating profusely in the humidity.

"Agh!" Tiloa shouted as she climbed up a short hill. "Can't we do something about this heat?" She stopped to take off her shirt and tie it around her waist. Several others followed suit.

Again, Lev was having trouble and stumbled to sit down on a log.

Lena turned on him. "Can you please try to keep up?" She tried to say it nicely, but it came out haughty and Kyrana snapped.

"He can go at the pace that he will go at. Orto is a cold planet. He is not used to such conditions."

"Yes he is," Lena snapped back. "He has lived here for…several years and he should be used to Tython's climate."

Kyrana sneered. "That is not how it works. Would you expect a Kel Dor to remove her mask just because she lived here 'for several years?'"

"Drop it, girls," Abel said. Lena looked at him, then faced away. Kyrana, on the other hand, continued to glare at Lena. Then, looking towards Abel not at him, she whispered, "You do not tell me what to do."

Abel bit back a retort as Kyrana gave Lev some of her water. Then they pressed on.

Even the plants themselves changed as they walked further and further down. Vines hung like spider webs between trees and things like giant beanstalks swayed eerily. Bright green leaves, bloated with water, dripped incessantly.

"Do you think its drinkable?" Puli asked.

"I wouldn't," And said. And if he refused, that was about the end of the conversation.

Hard plants of different color like coral twisted up from the ground. Unlike before, where they had seen and sensed critters scurrying and rustling, here there was nothing. They seemed to go where others feared to tread.

"We should go faster," Lena whispered. "I do not like the feel of this place."

"I cannot go any faster," Lev groaned at the back.

But before she could respond, Zek intervened, "It doesn't matter. I don't think we should be doing anything…rushed in here."

Lena nodded. "Yes. This place is thick with the dark side."

Others nodded, but privately Abel disagreed. Sure, this place was mysterious and probably dangerous, but he didn't think sides had anything to do with it. It was just a wild place.

As they walked, Abel thought he could hear a faint…crackling? Was it the sound of a thousand scurrying insects coming to attack? It was a wisp of a sound, just in reach, but it kept nagging at him.

"Does anyone else hear it?" he finally asked. "This…crackling sound?" No one answered in the affirmative.

"I hear it," Lev mumbled. "I've been hearing it for a while." The group stopped, listening. One person hearing something was one thing, but two of them? Several of them thought they heard it to.

"Well…" Tiloa said. "Should we keep moving?" They decided to keep moving, but they were all on high alert. Maybe it was nothing, but they weren't going to take that chance.

Strange scents began to float by, too. It smelled like rotting flowers. _No wonder_ , Abel thought, _in a damp forest like this, everything's probably rotting_.

Finally, after another call from Lev they agreed to stop for a rest. Their food and water were gone already. But although he was certainly parched and could use a dinner, Abel wasn't too worried. This strange forest would pass, he was sure. After all, most of the forests around the temple weren't like this.

"Does anyone want to try to climb to find out where we are?" Tiloa asked. No one volunteered. "Didn't think so."

Looking around at all the water, he finally understood the line, "water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink." Yep.

The light filtering through the trees was golden. It must be nearing sundown.

"Well, we don't want to be here when the sun goes down," Abel said, standing up and stretching. "I'd hate to think what kind of things happen here in the dark."

"Yes," Lena agreed. "We should keep moving."

As they gathered themselves, Abel noticed it. "Wait, where's Lev?"

Kyrana, who was too tired to be playing mother hen, sat straight up.

It only took a moment to find him. He was only a few paces away, but he was curled up on the ground, shallow breaths coming out of him.

"What happened?"

Then Abel looked behind him where a bush filled with nuts and berries stood.

"It – it was the same type by the lake," Lev mumbled. "I thought it safe."

"You…you idiot!" Lena shouted. "This whole time we've been saying this place is filled with the dark side, now you've gone and poisoned yourself."

Kyrana wasn't paying any attention to Lena's ranting. She was trying to pick Lev up as he continued to mumble. "I thought if I" – wince – "talked to it, like, you know, how we did on the farm…"

"This is not the farm, Levenbro," Kyrana said, quietly. "Wild plants may trick you."

Suddenly, it clicked for Abel. "I think the crackling sounds we heard…and maybe even the bad smell…I think the plants were communicating. I think they were warning their fellows." Abel was getting excited having figured out the mystery, but Kyrana pulled him up short.

"That is not helpful right now."

Lev began to choke. He could barely even stand with Kyrana's help.

"Does anyone think they could heal him?"

Most of them looked at their feet. No one was particularly adept at it.

"Lena?" Zek asked. She was usually the best, but she seemed loath to offer. Kyrana didn't look especially pleased.

"Oh…all right." She bent down for several minutes, hands pressed down on Lev's stomach, concentrating.

Finally, she gave up. "I don't know. I just can't figure anything out. We learned how to heel bruises and cuts, not poison."

Somehow hearing the word 'poison' made Abel feel doubly afraid for his friend.

"We just have to keep going," And said finally. "We'll take it slower. It doesn't look like Lev's actually about to…I mean, he looks uncomfortable, but I think he can make it." Kyrana glared at him, but he just shrugged. "We have to try. For his sake too."

Their pace, already slowed by the plants, was now twice as slow. Every time Lev doubled over in pain, Abel saw Lena turn and mutter. To Abel's vague surprise, Odo also kept casting looks at Lev, though as always, the Duro's eyes were unreadable.

Abel stayed back to help Lev. At one point, Kyrana also stumbled and Abel reached out to help her. She shrugged him off.

Abel thought it odd that the others didn't seem overly concerned for Lev's plight. They burrowed forward with only occasional glances back or "you'll be alright, Lev"s. _Or maybe it wasn't odd_ , Abel thought with disgust, _it wasn't odd at all_.

And to top it all off, the forest continued its sickly moist feel. He felt like they were just walking in circles and circles.

The sun had set and shadows now crept into the forest. The forest, like all the forests of Tython, seemed to breath, but down here it breathed ragged, like a dying creature, and a vague threat began to grow in Abel's mind.

Their column abruptly stopped as Abel walked straight into Kay. Abel quickly saw why as Lena and Odo stood facing them. Evidently, they had been whispering the whole way and now had a plan. Abel had a sinking feeling he wouldn't like it.

"I'm sorry, but Odo and I feel that we must continue on."

No one spoke.

"We have tried to keep pace with Lev, throughout the whole time, and this is simply the final tick." Abel could feel Kyrana beginning to seethe beside him. "Night has fallen. Odo and I do not trust to spend the night in this dark place. We have resolved to run ahead at a fast pace to reach a safer place. We're sorry."

Still no one said anything. Not even Kay. They didn't know how to handle this parting of ways.

"You are not sorry," Kyrana finally intoned. Her voice shook. "You wanted this from the beginning. You wanted to leave us behind so you could finish first. You always have to be first."

"This is not about that," Lena replied, losing patience. "If we go faster, we can get help for Lev –"

"Don't you," Kyrana shook, raising her fist. "Don't you pretend you're doing this for Lev. You are doing this for Lena, as you always do."

Lena stood up straight. In the shadows, Abel could only just make out her eyes, but they were filled with anger. "It is _you_ who always does what she wants. I? I have always…all of you have always scorned me, hated me, but not because I was better. Not because you were jealous." Her voice was quivering. "No, because I was different. Because I always tried to do the right thing instead of the fun thing, because I always worked – I worked _so hard_ – and you would –"

"You don't think I worked hard? Nothing ever came easy to me, everything I have, I have worked for –"

But Lena had continued over Kyrana. "None of you ever listened to me. Ever cared about _me_. Because I actually took the Force seriously, because I actually _listened_ to what it was _telling_ me." Lena, who had been on the verge of tears, stopped yelling and pulled herself up. "I have actually tried to live by the light side of the Force, and you do not care. That is the difference."

Kyrana's eyes flashed and her muscles tensed like a tiger. Lena angled her hand.

Lev sank to the ground once more and whimpered. The fight went out of Kyrana and she went to attend him.

The tension left and Lena breathed out. As she set out to go, though, she couldn't resist one last word.

"I said it before. The darkness shrouds him. Maybe that's why he was so eager to eat the fruit of these dark woods. But the dark side will always betray you." She began to walk, but repeated the parting: "May the Force be with you." Then she and Odo left swiftly.

To his right, Abel heard Kay whisper in answer: "And may the darkness take you."

And the shadows lengthened in the deepening dark of the sick, wet wood.


	11. Chapter 11: The Forest Path

A/N

.

Pronunciation Guide:

Sila'amak ta = see-LAH-AH-mahk tah [silaʔamakta]

.

New Concept/Word

How Tython storms and forests operate

Sila'amak ta

Whole description of Tholothian headdress, including Asara rebellion and Mako

Patterns of the rising of the moons

.

* * *

Chapter 11: The Forest Path

.

They slept on the ground, as fearful of the trees as they were of potential predatory animals. Probably even more so since they hadn't seen a creature over the last twelve hours. This time they decided to set a watch and trade off every two hours. And took the first watch as the rest tried to get comfortable on the wet ground. They didn't dare pull off the elephantine leaves from the trees.

Abel had to wrench himself awake the next morning. He had slept badly all through the night, even without having to wake up for the watch. Once everyone was up, they kept walking.

Any trace of life was extinguished. They trudged on like the walking dead. The light filtering down through the trees was a cold gray light, though the forest was as warm as ever. The reason for the gray became clear only a half hour into their walk as the clouds broke and rain came streaming through. They took it gladly, filling their bottles, jamming it down their faces, then filling their bottles again.

Lev meanwhile had stopped groaning, but he moved gingerly, hesitating with almost every step. He didn't complain, but seemed listless and not entirely there, which worried Abel even more. Still, he was able to move.

They finally began to move upwards in elevation and after two hours the creeping plants thinned out and were replaced by the Tython forests they were used to. They passed by several promising edible bushes. Weary as they were, they still thought they were too close to the jungle.

The rain grew steadily worse throughout the day, so that the rejuvenating wash became a downpour and by afternoon, the downpour had become a storm.

They were climbing up a steep slope and could see the forest from whence they had come, but up so high they were buffeted by the strong winds of the summer storm. Average storms on Tython were like hurricanes back home; probably the result of living on such a Force-charged planet. But the trees here were equally infused with the Force and were usually up to the task of withstanding the winds. They bent back and forth, leaning against each other for support.

As the classmates were pushed around, Abel suddenly realized why so much of Tython was covered in forests. Trees stood a lot better chance of withstanding these storms if they stood together. Clustered in a forest, the winds were less of a threat than if they stood alone. And, of course, all the other plants and animals benefited from this protection. It was their haven.

"We have to find cover!" And shouted over the roaring wind and pelting rain. He looked ominously at the swaying trees whose roots were starting to pull up. "We're too exposed here!"

"Look!" Tiloa shouted, pointing ahead. "Look at the cliffs!"

Abel could just make out ahead of them, shrouded in mists, the outlines of rocky cliffs.

"I'll bet there'll be some caves in there!"

"But won't we be even more exposed up there?" Kay called. Tiloa just shrugged.

But with a goal in mind, they set out at a renewed pace.

As they were climbing, a quick flash illuminated the cliff side, and a few seconds later there came a deafening bang.

"Even more reason to get in those caves!" And shouted. "I don't fancy being caught in another one of those fires!"

But as they were running up, Abel heard a faint cry behind him. Turning around, he saw Lev face down in the mid. Kyrana was frantically trying to pull him up and Abel ran back down to help. Together they managed to pull him up as Abel cried out to the others to halt. Kyrana slapped Lev's face, but it was no use; he had fainted. The two of them tried to carry Lev together, but they just couldn't manage it.

"Can we lift him with the Force?" And yelled next to Abel's ear. Kyrana was already shaking her head, crying.

"I can't, I can't…"

"It's alright. Kyrana?" She looked at And who had placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, we're gonna get him up. Tiloa! Zek!"

The three Jedi took their places and, closing their eyes and stretching out their hands, began to lift Lev and bring him up the slope. In retrospect, it was a sight to behold, Abel thought. They were deaf to the world, this Cerean, Nautoloan and Togruta, deaf to the driving rain and the wind whipping at their heels, concentrating solely on keeping Lev afloat and moving up the hill. Abel and Kay watched out for them, ready to help at a moment's notice, while Puli took Kyrana in her arms and led her up the slope.

Kay called out that he was going ahead to scout for a cave and he leapt away. Abel offered to help with Lev, but And shooed him away. He understood. They were in their element now.

Kyrana was mumbling inconsolably, but Puli continued to stroke her head and whisper gentle things to her. She looked up darkly at Abel, still keeping her arms around Kyrana.

Kay soon came back to say he had found a cave and after a few more tense minutes, they filed into the rocky hole.

It was hardly a cave and they were all barely able to fit, but it had the added benefit of its entrance being protected by several large slabs of rock. They laid Lev down in the corner. Zek checked his pulse and other vitals while the others looked on. Zek sighed.

"He is still alive." Abel didn't like the sound of that. "But he's weak, very weak. I think he'll need to stay here a while to rest."

"But if it's poison," Abel said, "don't we need to get him –"

"I don't think he was poisoned exactly," Zek said, "at least, not in the way you mean it. The chemicals would probably be potent enough to kill small animals, insects maybe, who were trying to harm the plant, but not for creatures as big as us. It would just make us horribly sick. But with all the traveling we've been doing and the lack of proper food and water…well, again, he's very weak."

"Should we start a fire?" Abel asked.

"That would help. And water, of course. And food, but…berries would probably be the best, but I don't know if his stomach would like it, considering the circumstances."

"Trust me, those weren't normal berries," Abel said. Abel and Zek set out for berries, while Kay went for firewood. After finding some edible berries (not of the same type Lev had eaten), they came back to find a fire already crackling. Evidently, they had already managed to draw the water out of the soaked firewood.

Puli took the berries and put them into one half of her broken bottle to make a natural bowl. She ground them up into a liquid, mixing them with water, then poured them down Lev's throat. Kyrana sat by his side stroking his ears. Abel moved to sit by his friend on the opposite side. On a whim, he placed his hand on Lev's body. Feeling the skin beneath his hand, he tried to heal him, focusing on the connections he felt, trying to mend, trying to calm…

He eventually withdrew his hand. He could sense no change. He slumped back.

And came over to where Abel sat with Puli, Kyrana and the lifeless Lev.

"I've been talking with the others, and we think we should try to press on to get help. Even if the masters refuse to do anything, we'll go in, get some supplies and come right back – preferably with a ship, stolen if need be, and if we have to walk, we'll walk." Puli laughed and even Kyrana managed a smile.

"Is it safe in this storm?"

Zek glanced outside, but And just smirked. "Seriously? A storm against Jedi?"

"I thought you were the one worried about the fire."

"That was when we had Lev to worry about."

"Ah…"

"So. Are you coming with us?"

"I'll stay," Puli said. "Kyrana can use the help." And nodded, then looked at Abel. He didn't have to think about it.

"I'm staying to. I have to." And smiled and nodded.

"I thought so." He and the three others got set to leave, but Kyrana lifted her head and spoke.

"No. Not him." She was looking right at Abel. "I don't want you to stay."

"But I want to help him."

"You can help him. By going to get help, you help him." But she said this flatly.

"I…I wasn't there for him before, but this time I want –"

"I don't care what you want," Kyrana simmered, "I'm asking that you do what I want."

Abel stood up, wanting to say more, but just sighed. "I will go. For your sake."

After this exchange, And knelt once more to Kyrana. He took her hand in his hand. "Trust in the Force, Kyrana. Trust in us. We will see him through." She looked up at him. " _Sila'amak ta_."

Her lips twitched into a smile. "Si – Sila'amak ta," she replied back as her lekku wiggled.

The five of them traipsed out of the cave and back into the swirling storm.

As they trudged, Abel asked And, "What was that you said to Kyrana?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Sila'amak ta? It is a common Twi'lek parting, meaning something like 'May it keep you,' or 'May you keep.' At least literally. But 'to keep' means more in Twi'lek than it does in Basic." This whole time he was continuing to shout over the wind. "It's saying may you stay there for me, may you…be cared for, may you rest easy; it's imploring the world to keep this person safe."

"It sounds a little like 'may the Force be with you.'"

And tilted his head. "Yeah, I guess it does."

Suddenly, a nearby tree cracked and, with its roots pulling out from the loose sloping soil, it began to fall in their path. Abel saw it fall, saw its path curve toward Tiloa and with an almighty kick, Abel propelled himself toward her, colliding with her and knocking her down the slope. The tree fell behind them with a groan.

Abel sat up slowly to see Kay running at them through the rain. "What happened?"

Tiloa sat up to. "He – he saved me from the falling tree." She laughed. "Damn this rain, my senses were all a mess…" Then she hugged Abel, squeezing tight. And and Zek made it over the newly fallen tree and came upon them.

As they broke apart, Abel looked past Tiloa. The ground around them was strewn with the corpses of newly fallen trees, but beyond them, the forest endured. He stood up.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go back."

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Kyrana's not gonna like that."

Abel smiled as they peppered him with questions. "No. I don't think she is. But I have to."

Not to Abel's surprise, Zek alone nodded. "Alright. We'll see you when we're all done."

With a quick smile, Abel made his way back up the slope.

He ducked back under the cave and was met with the shocked faces of Puli and Kyrana. With lightning flashing behind him and rain rattling, he must have appeared like a ghost.

"Did you forget something?"

"No. I'm staying."

"I thought I told you –"

"Please?" Abel looked straight at Kyrana. He wasn't angry, he wasn't pleading, he was simply filled with purpose. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I am sorry. I truly am. I never…I have never wanted to cause harm."

"But you did."

"Yes. You are right. I did. So now I ask your forgiveness. Can I please stay to help him, can I…atone for the wrong I have done him? I ask this of you."

Puli just looked from Abel to Kyrana, not saying a word.

Kyrana sighed. "Fine. You are already here, you might as well stay and be useful." Not daring to smile, Abel sat to tend the fire. "But don't think I have fully forgiven you," Kyrana said, looking darkly at him. "I still do not fully trust you."

Abel just nodded.

The fire was running low. Abel went outside to fetch more.

.

By the next morning, the rains had stopped. The air was settled and a sheen of sparkling dew covered the forest floor. But as Abel looked out of the cave, the thing that first caught his eye was the scene of devastation immediately outside: trunks and branches crisscrossed, sticking out at odd angles, leaving a barren face of dirt and rock until hitting the forest line a hundred yards away.

Abel walked out as the sun hid again behind the stratus clouds and low hanging mists. The wind still blew in a steady gust. It was cool, though not chilly. As Abel climbed between wood and rock, a few black birds landed on one of the fallen branches. They hopped down and picked through the dead wood, in the crannies between, probably looking for worms or other small creatures brought out by the wet.

"Abel?" He heard quietly behind him. Puli crawled out of the cave and walked towards him, pulling her shirt back on and crossing her arms. There were dark circles under her eyes.

"Wow. It was quite a storm."

"Yep." They continued to look around.

"Do you" – yawn – "do you want to go get some more wood? And food?"

"Sure."

"I'll go let Kyrana know." Puli gently nudged Kyrana awake and told her where they were going, then they set off down the slope.

Abel watched as the tendrils of Puli's headdress whipped around in the wind. They were so much a part of her, he couldn't imagine what Puli would look like without it. Quite strange, he suspected.

"What exactly is the significance of the Tholothian headdress?" Abel asked. Puli stopped abruptly, looking shocked.

"Really? Here we are, alone in the woods and Lev on death's door, and… Alright. Well…it's traditional clothing for Tholothian women, but not traditional like 'it's important and we wear it on important occasions.' More like it's expected at all times." Abel was reminded of the hijab.

"Right, but is it religious? Cultural?"

Puli tilted her head this way and that. "Both, I suppose. Tens of thousands of years ago, humans colonized Tholoth, as you know." He nodded. "And during those years, we became a slightly different species." They had reached the forest and they began to search for food as Puli talked. "Then when Tholoth and other human Colonies were brought back into the republic, we were treated as second class citizens, like all the rest. For thousands of years, it was like this." Abel interrupted to point out a berry bush. Excited, she rushed forward and began to pick. "Then, several thousand years ago, a Tholothian man named Zumo Asara led a revolution against the Republic presence on Tholoth. And while he and his band of followers were eventually defeated, the Republic granted them – us – full access to councils, education, and everything else as a full and equal partner planet like Coruscant and Corellia." Puli squealed as she ran over to a small tree and pulled off what looked like an orange apple. Abel went over to collect some as well.

"And the headdresses?"

"Right. Well, Asara's most aggressive followers were actually women. And when they heard the Chancellor's speech, which included a line about Tholothian women having "hair as beautiful as any normal human women," they were livid. So they shaved their hair. And in its place, they wove a crown of these," Puli said, running her hand through the tendrils, "Mako petals. They were the petals of the Mako flower, a rubbery plant found in still water. They are considered the height of grace and beauty on Tholoth, but most humans think they're ugly." She shrugged. "It became a symbol of national pride."

Abel nodded. "And its religious connection?"

"Oh," Puli said, screwing up her face, "yes, it became co-opted by our major religion, which claimed that the Mako petals were supposed to have a certain…spirit of wisdom and beauty. Then it became the standard. So it's not required, but any self-respecting Tholothian woman wears one. At this point, our hair is considered ugly, and our headdress attractive and normal."

Abel was about to ask another question when he was interrupted by a crashing through the bushes. They barely had time to turn around before Kyrana was on them.

"Where have you been?" she screamed frantically. "I wake up and no one is there. I thought –"

"We told you before going out that we were looking for food," Abel whined.

She stopped short. "Oh. Well…" She turned on Abel. "You should have been certain I was awake enough to hear and understand you!"

"Kyrana," Puli said, stepping in, "I was the one who told you, there's no reason to harp on Abel."

"Ah. I see." She ruffled her feathers. "Next time, Puli, please make sure I am awake. Now, we need to water Lev." And with a last glare at Abel, she stalked off.

Puli caught Abel's eye and they stifled their giggles. Aside from Kyrana's linguistic faux pas – she didn't start learning basic until she was six, and Abel was grateful that the grammatical structure was oddly close to English – it was Kyrana's imperial attitude that especially struck him funny.

He watched Kyrana as she marched on ahead, her lekku trailing like the train of a dress. Kyrana, too, had her headdress, just like Puli. Actually, many Jedi brought their own cultural pieces with them. Oddly enough, Abel had nothing like that. It's ironic that he should need no piece of his old life to hold on to like a talisman considering he was the pioneer of his planet in this new world, yet the people of these cultures that had existed in the Republic for tens of thousands of years still yearned for theirs. He didn't know if that said something about his culture on Earth, the Union, or him.

.

After collecting more wood from right outside their cave, they spent the bulk of the day inside, avoiding the mists. They amused themselves by eating, napping, eating, practicing with the force, trying time and time again to heal Lev, and more eating. They didn't talk much, mostly because Kyrana kept an ambiance of a wake.

As night drove in, the mists slowly drove out, but not fast enough for the sun to shine through clearly.

"Ahhh," Puli sighed, looking out, "the stars are out."

Abel looked over her shoulder and saw them too, the fifty or so stars that had appeared so far.

"It is funny," Kyrana said from behind them, "as a little girl, I loved the stars. The Twi'lek people had so many stories about the people and places from there, and I would pretend to go there in my mind." She got up and huddled next to them, looking up. "Of course, I didn't really understand that those worlds were like mine. I thought they were all places of light, like what I saw, and that everything there was perfect." She smiled and shook her head. "I even thought that maybe the stars _were_ the people they were talking about and that they lived on the black canvas like a land."

"Some cultures on Earth had similar beliefs," Abel said. "That the stars were people placed up into the sky."

"I thought that the stars were people, too," Puli said. "Or I thought that they were our reflections in the sky, people's reflections, like you see in the water."

"That's a nice idea," Kyrana said.

"It wasn't exactly mine. In came from a story my mother read to me when I was younger."

"But," Abel said, "didn't you know that people went up into space?"

Puli shrugged. "Yes. Or maybe not. I knew they went to other places, but I don't think I knew what that really meant for a couple years."

"That's funny," Abel said. "There I was, on a planet where the farthest away anyone had ever been was the moon, and I'm the only one who doesn't remember the stars being anything but what they were."

"Speaking of the moon," Puli said, pointing, "Here comes Ashla now." The bright moon of the light was rising in the east above the tree line. The white orb hung serenely and seemed to smile down, with its silver rays gleaming through the leaves.

Then a noise behind them jolted them out of their reverie. Lev was awake!

Kyrana rushed over to him. "Lev! Lev!" She put her hand to his forehead.

"Mmm…what's…"

"Shh, shh," Kyrana cooed back. Lev opened his eyes and blinked several times.

"Kana," he groaned. "I'm not dead, am I?"

"Not dead yet," Abel joked, beaming in spite of himself.

"Don't say that," Puli said, hitting him.

But Lev's eyes lit up and his trunk-like nose wiggled. He had chuckled.

"Not yet," he agreed.

"Do you want anything?" Kyrana asked softly.

"No, no," Lev croaked. "Nothing…"

Then, from outside the cave, a strange light began to shine from the opposite angle of Ashla, jarring the milky beams and dispersing them.

"It looks like Bogan's out, too," Puli commented, looking out. The others looked up. It was relatively rare that both moons rose at opposite ends at the same time.

"Ahh…" Lev sighed, "I awoke with the moon." He was looking at Ashla and started to hum.

As the dark blue light faded to black, the four of them faded to sleep.

.

He didn't know what time it was, but it was still dark…or was it?

Opening his eyes into slits, he could just make out through the mouth of the cave the forest scene and to his astonishment, there was a faint gray light.

Then he realized that there was a hand on his shoulder. Kyrana was looking at him and put a hand on his mouth. _Don't speak_ , it clearly said. Her eyes were wide.

Leaning down, she whispered, trembling, "There are manka cats right outside."

Abel strained to listen but could hear nothing but the calm wind. He was about to ask how she knew when he saw them.

It hopped silently up to a rock just outside, its sleek body like water shining in the moonlights. Abel hadn't really gotten a great look at them last time, but now he could admire its long curving fangs, beady eyes, and sharp talons. It looked almost twice as big as a tiger on Earth, more like a bear in size, but still with the quick precision of a cat.

"Whu…what do we do?" Puli breathed.

"I thought they only fed during dusk and dawn," Abel whispered.

"It must be the twin lights of the moon," Kyrana replied. "It must mimic the light of dawn."

One of the two cats suddenly pounced and dug its head into a hole. It clawed frantically while the other jumped around it, then paced at a wider perimeter, perhaps scoping out another way in.

"This is bad, they're obviously checking the rocks for food," Puli said.

"And we can't run away. Lev's still too weak for that," Kyrana said, putting her hand to her head.

"So we fight, then," Abel stated. "Or at least draw them away."

Kyrana frowned. "I wish And were here. Or Tiloa. They are much better at this than we are. No offense," she added.

"None taken," Abel smiled. "But I do think you're strong enough to repel them, Kyrana. I've seen you."

She frowned again. "In practice, yes. But… The best thing would be to hypnotize them, or lull them to sleep." She looked at them pointedly, but they shrugged.

"Honestly, Lev would be the best for that with his music," Abel said.

"Isn't that ironic," Puli said, "now we finally need Lev and he's out of it." Kyrana glared at her.

"What? It's true!"

"O.K.," Abel interrupted, brushing the hair out of his face. "Here's what we'll do. I'm going to try to lure them away, starting by calming them from inside the cave. I can't put them to sleep, but good enough to lower their drive for a bit. Then you two slowly go and get some rocks or something and hit them in the heads."

Kyrana and Puli looked at each other doubtfully.

"What, are we supposed to walk up to them?" Puli asked. "I don't know if I have the precision or the strength to knock them out by throwing them."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

They shook their heads and made ready to follow them.

Abel stretched his hands out, one to each cat, and began to connect to them, sending calm.

Within a few seconds, the one stopped pacing and just stared at one spot, while the other stopped frantically pawing. One sniffed carefully and the other stretched. After a few minutes, neither cat was moving.

"Oookayyy…" Abel whispered. "I think you can try to move out."

Ever so lightly, the girls toed out of the cave and circled around to find rocks and cover. Abel barely noticed them move, keeping all his attention on the cats. It was especially hard though considering he had just been woken up from a deep sleep not five minutes ago.

One of the cats flicked its ear. Abel took several deep breaths.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kyrana moving forward to his right. She held a great stone in her hand and rested it on a rock.

To his surprise, one of the cats gave a great yawn, stretched, then slumped forward and curled into sleep. The other one followed suit.

All was quiet now except for the steady wind.

"Maybe…maybe we don't have to kill them," Abel whispered to Kyrana.

"I still think we should," she said. "They could wake up at any moment, and we'd be right back where we started."

"Where's Puli?" he asked.

She jerked her head to Abel's left. "That way, ready to strike it seems."

Then he saw Puli creeping slowly to the one on the left. It seemed that she trusted her own hands more than the Force. Kyrana meanwhile had closed her eyes and was lifting the rock.

"Tell me when Puli is bringing hers down to strike," she told Abel. "That way we can attack at the same time."

Abel had a flashback to watching the first _Star Wars_ where Obi-Wan blindfolded Luke, and only then was he able to trust the Force. It seemed that was what Kyrana was doing. Her face was serene, totally prepared to throw the rock through the air and hit its intended target. Suddenly, admiration welled up inside of him; he could not explain why or even what it was, but she was –

Then he realized his mistake. While he was distracted, his hold on the cats had broken. They each yawned again and began to blink open their eyes.

"Puli stop!" Abel yelled, getting to his feet. In surprise, Puli stopped and turned toward him, only meters away from her target. Kyrana too dropped her rock.

The cats moved.

"Puli! Run!" Abel yelled.

The cat nearest her suddenly lunged, but he was too slow as she had already started sprinting away.

But as Abel turned his eyes away from that scene, he realized another problem: the other cat was looking directly at him.

.

Frozen in fear, Abel stared as the cat bounded towards him. When it was only a leap from the cave, a great rock slammed into its body and it was thrown sideways.

Kyrana, who still had her wits about her, had sent her rock flying. But of course she had missed its head.

"Help me!" She screamed to Abel as she ran by with a smaller, softball-sized rock in her hand. She leaped at the dazed cat, landing on its back, and tried to hit it in the head. The cat, however, struggled back and tried to buck her off. Kyrana held on for dear life.

Abel was finally galvanized into action, but he couldn't try anything with the two of them entwined.

Kyrana was finally thrown off, but as the cat turned to tear her apart, Abel threw a force punch at it which knocked it away.

Kyrana scrambled to her feet and ran back to Abel. Without a word, she struck a rock at their feet, slicing off a thin portion. She picked it up. She had a knife.

The cat came roaring back and the two of them stopped it in its tracks, holding it down with the Force. They began to circled it slowly.

It took a swipe at Kyrana's leg. She darted away, then lunged herself at the cat, knife first. It also moved, but not quickly enough for the knife to find flesh in its shoulder.

It roared again, bucking Kyrana off, but then it lunged straight at Abel. Abel, not expecting it, just managed to jump back toward the cave and avoid its deadly claws.

But as he did, he tripped and fell back. Seeing its chance, the cat bounded at him again, and Abel didn't have time enough to raise his hands.

With a sickened thud, the knife embedded itself into the cat's skull. The great manka cat fell at Abel's feet, and with one last almighty yowl, died.

Kyrana came rushing over and removed the tool from the cat.

"Are you fine?" she asked Abel.

"Yes," he said breathlessly. "You?"

She shrugged. She had hardly paid attention, still attuned to the fight.

"We have to go find and help –"

But she was cut off as claws raked her shoulder.

The other manka cat had arrived. Abel didn't know what that meant for Puli, but he hardly had time to consider as Kyrana cried out in pain.

But before he could do anything, the cat sent Kyrana flying backwards into the cave and she slammed against the jagged rock.

He sent another weak push against the cat and ran back to check on Kyrana. He rushed over and found blood pulsing out of Kyrana's arm.

 _No, no, no, no…_

Her breathing was shallow and she winced, but her eyes were closed.

Abel heard a growl behind him.

The cat was standing at the ready at the mouth of the cave, framed in the silver moonlight of the night.

It was just him and the cat.

But again he froze. He didn't know what to do, his own strength was failing. The cat was too strong.

He sensed a stirring beside him. Lev was standing up, eyes barely open, walking towards the cat. He tried to sing. The cat twitched.

But the tones wouldn't come, Abel could see. It wasn't working. Lev was walking forward to his death.

 _Well. That's not going to happen._

The cat prepared to pounce. Lev looked straight at it and it seemed to Abel – though it was probably just a trick of the moonlight – that he was smiling.

The cat lunged, but so did Abel.

Abel took it in the chest, smelling sweat and fur as he rolled with the cat in a bear hug. The cat tossed its head this way and that, trying to bite him. Its claws couldn't reach around to get him either, so Abel hung on.

As he did, he could feel the creature's heartbeat against his, could feel its muscles pulling and pumping beneath his. It was so strong, much stronger than he was.

 _But no,_ Abel thought. _It is not stronger than me. The Force is with me. THE FORCE IS WITH ME._

He hugged tighter and tighter, he could feel the bones of the cat straining, beginning to break. Its ribs were collapsing, its heart was shrinking.

The beast let loose not with a howl, but a mew. Such a sweet plead, its cry.

And Abel began to release.

 _This is a mistake_ , he thought, _it will crush me in my weakness._

But he didn't care. The Force was with him. He trusted it.

He looked up into the screwed up eyes of the cat, which were wide with fright and stared out into the stars. Perhaps sensing Abel's gaze, it looked down at him.

"Sila'amak ta," he said to it.

He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but he said it anyways.

The cat slowly stopped struggling and lay on the ground like a slug, belly up, still staring at Abel. Abel unwound his arms from her and touched his hand to her head.

The cat rubbed up against it. It mewed again.

"That's a good girl," he said and he started to pet her.

In a moment, all of the tension of the fight was gone. Something between them had changed, but it was like they had flipped over a line, one moment fighting, the next not, with no space in between.

He got up and she rolled over.

"Go," he said, motioning to the forest. "Go back to your pups."

She dutifully stood up, and with one last rub up against him, padded away into the forest of moonlight.

But this moment of triumph was quickly forgotten as Abel swiveled around to see to Kyrana. Lev was crouched over her, but he himself was doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. Abel joined him and got his first good look at Kyrana's arm: it was mangled, unusable. Blood was seeping out of the three great gashes and Kyrana's eyes were far away. Then they seemed to focus in on Abel.

"Abel," she croaked, gesturing with her other hand, "please."

Abel stared at her, sweat dripping from his nose. Next to him, Lev sank back into his makeshift bed.

"I know what you would have me do…" Abel said to her.

She nodded. "I know you can – ah! – I know; you have done it before." She slowly shook her head, trying to concentrate.

Of course, he would have to try. Without an arm, her powers would be severely diminished; yes, she could always get a bionic arm, but they were notoriously difficult to use the Force with. He would have to try.

"Do or do not; there is no try."

The phrase echoed in his head as he took her bloodied arm into his hands.

 _Shut up, dammit._

Her blood ran onto his fingers.

 _Oh great, I hope she doesn't get an infection._

He settled his hands and began to mentally trace the lines of veins, skin and muscle beneath his fingertips.

It was strange. The first time they had practiced, everyone had felt awkward about the whole production. Perhaps that was why nobody was healed the first time. There was no sense of urgency, no threat…but no, that wasn't it, was it? For Abel _had_ healed Kyrana. But it wasn't fear he had felt, not that biting sensation pulling him on; it was…nothing. Right? He didn't remember doing anything; it had healed on its own.

He stopped mentally tracing the connections he felt beneath him, let it all fade away. This was no rock he was breaking or repairing…or was it? What was the difference after all?

 _Stop this thinking_ , he thought. Here he was, trying to heal her, and all he was doing was thinking of the possibilities.

"Live in the moment."

 _See, now that's stupid advice too._

But no, really, getting back to that previous thought. Are living things really so special, that putting Humpty Dumpty back together again should be so impossible? Come to think of it, what exactly was Humpty Dumpty? Was he, like, an egg?

 _This was getting exhausting._

Then Kyrana reached up to him and lightly touched his forearm.

"You think too much."

She smiled with her eyes closed.

"I can almost hear them from here." She laughed, then all of a sudden, she kept laughing, blood spurting out from her arm.

"I'm laughing," she laughed. "And bleeding!"

"Hold still," Abel complained, but he too was laughing. He pulled away to laugh more.

Puli entered. "Well, what's going on here?"

"Abel was trying to heal my wounds, but he gave up."

"I did not give up, you made me laugh!" They chuckled again.

"What wounds?" Puli asked. Kyrana looked at her arm.

The gashes were gone. All that was left was the blood pooled on the floor.

.

In the aftermath of the manka cat attack, their spirits were oddly elated. Puli, it turns out, had climbed a tree and had been preparing to attack the other cat when the cat was suddenly summoned by her fellow's dying cry.

Kyrana's wound had indeed been healed, but they couldn't figure out exactly how it had happened. Abel didn't remember feeling the tingle he had when he had healed her before. Even Kyrana didn't seem to remember feeling anything. One moment she were hemorrhaging blood, the next her skin was as smooth as shell.

Nor did anyone understand what possessed Abel to let the second manka cat go.

"Especially after you had already thrown yourself into its claws like that!" Kyrana exclaimed as she helped Lev get back into bed. "Really, you are a fool." Though she was smiling.

"I don't know. I just felt the cat was so full of fear, and when I suddenly felt sad, it…everything seemed to change. I can't explain what it felt like. Like each of us knew that we were no longer fighting. I don't know." The fire crackled as he thought. "The Force, am I right?" he joked.

"When in doubt, say the Force did it," Puli said, echoing an old school standby. They laughed.

The next morning, even Lev was feeling better, good enough to travel (though with generous breaks). So they set off with a little more pep in their step.

They chatted amiably as they ambled through the forest. They were even able to coax Lev into the conversation. They each had their own stories to tell, and Kyrana seemed to have a particularly enjoyable time correcting Abel's observations. It was a wonder to see the change that living through danger could bring.

Around midday they sent Abel up a tree to investigate while Lev took another break. As he popped his head out of the branches, he spied a sparkling sight.

"We're close! I can see the waterfall off in the distance. No more than…" He cut himself short to have a real discussion down on the ground.

"If we were – well, at this pace we'll probably get there in another twelve hours."

"Probably tomorrow then," Puli said.

"Today," Lev said, bending over. "I can go faster."

Kyrana looked like she was going to protest, but she bit her lip.

It was late in the afternoon, when the shadows of things were longer than the things themselves, when they stumbled upon the ash. At first, they didn't know what it was, coating the little trees like snow, but it was Kyrana who named it. The trees turned black as they went further and further, becoming a forest of sticks, sticking straight up or lying on the ground, both dead. Then there were no more sticks, only a desert of gray sand, swirling in the wind and piling up in dunes.

They could see for several miles beyond them where the fire had scorched. Some bones of dead trees stuck up at odd angles, but mostly it was just a sea of ash.

"I don't know if it is like this on my planet," Abel breathed.

"Nor mine," Puli said.

"Should we skirt around it?"

"That would be unnecessary," Kyrana said. "It would take several more hours. We should press on."

Lev nodded.

They trekked on, in a single file, across the desolate plain.

The gray wind from the day before had returned and they hugged themselves closely to stem the chill. The sun was setting at their backs, and they could see their long shadows before them through the clouds of dust they kicked up. Beyond them, to the east, Abel could see the waterfall just glinting in the dying rays of the setting sun.

 _It was odd_ , Abel thought, _this gaping hole._ He could see the line of the forests miles away in each direction. Here, in the midst of all this life was a hole of death.

By the time they arrived at the tree line, night had fallen and so had the temperature. Lev collapsed on a rock, utterly spent, while Puli sat next to him for warmth.

"Should we look for shelter?" Abel asked.

Kyrana threw her hands up. "I don't even know if we'd find it. We're probably fine here. We can make up a fire and take watches."

"I can take the first one," Puli volunteered and Kyrana nodded.

They collected the firewood and found comfortable spots and – in an unusual twist for Abel – he fell right to sleep.

It was still in total darkness when Abel was gently roused by Kyrana. The first thing Abel realized was how cold he was. The wind had picked up and was tossing the flames of their fire back and forth.

"You will have to be careful with the fire," Kyrana whispered. "I have protected it from the wind all night."

Abel nodded as Kyrana sank back into sleep. He reached over to their pile of nuts and grabbed a handful, slowly nibbling.

 _It was odd that the cold brought on by a storm should last this long_ , Abel thought. _It usually cleared after a day. Maybe another's coming._

With that sobering thought, Abel moved closer to the fire and poked it with a stick.

The winds dragged the night on and Abel sank lower into himself. Several times, he shook his head, fearful that he was falling asleep, and he would put another log into the fire. He would watch the others in their sleep.

 _They look equally uncomfortable_ , Abel thought, for they kept tossing and turning, probably from the cold and the hard ground.

Kyrana twitched and rolled over.

 _She was such an enigma_ , Abel thought. He thought they were back on good terms again, but you could never be sure with her. She was as stubborn and enduring as a rock. Hopefully, by saving her life –

All at once, Abel was tired of thinking and worrying about Kyrana. Her back was to him and her right lek was draped casually down her side. Abel frowned and looked at Puli, curled up in a ball, and Lev lying on his back, his stomach rising and falling peacefully.

Abel wanted to go home. He wanted to be back on Earth. These people, this planet…he was a little sick of it all.

The wind moaned in his ear and he swatted at it.

Yes, he was sick of all of it. Sick of trying to please everyone, sick of meditating on nothing, even sick of blue milk. He felt like a ship untethered and set at sea without a map. It was an age of exploration for Earthlings, the dawning of a new age, and he was to be her captain. Well he was nobody's Adam. Yes, he could put his head down and plow through the lessons and plow through friendships, but eventually, he'd have to pull his head up to see where he's going.

It's like walking on a path in the woods. You find yourself starting to trip so you start hopping from rock to rock and before you know it, you're only ever looking down to make sure your feet are O.K. so your head starts to hurt when you look up and everything looks hazy, so you put your head back down and you never actually get to see the woods. You might as well be on a treadmill. It takes a conscious effort to keep your head up and see the beauty all around you.

He didn't want to be a Jedi anymore. He was looking up now and he didn't like where he was. It was hard to explain to himself, but it just didn't feel right. He had never belonged here. This was a place of heroes as much as they themselves might deny it.

But hadn't he been heroic when he stopped that manka cat?

No! the wind roared with him. He didn't know what that was, but that wasn't him. It must not have been him. He didn't – doesn't – have the power. He was sick of trying to be something he wasn't. Sick, sick, sick! He thought he was going to throw up. Nothing, nothing, nothing! The words from so long ago came screaming back to him like a bat out of hell. But hadn't he already conquered that demon before? The forest had been his friend then, it had helped him see that he truly was meant to be where and what he was.

And Abel woke up. Or something like it. He found that he was sprawled on the ground, rolling back and forth.

The wind, which had been raging, had died down to nothingness.

The fire was burning low.

The sky was gray with the promise of morning.

And Abel connected the dots. He connected with all the forest was telling him, screaming at him.

He got up and walked forward, step after quiet step. Puffs of smoke filled the air as he once more visited the edge of the desolate plain. It was a wound in the forest, a wound felt by all the forest, and the forest was mourning, the forest was frightened. When it felt the flame rekindled in its belly, it was frightened still further. It did not want it to grow into another inferno.

Abel gently touched the blackened stump of a once-tree.

"I will not harm you. Our fire is well protected. It will not grow." He said this softly. Then, at his feet, Abel spied something living.

It was a single namiko flower, with its thin pink tendrils. Abel bent down to touch it, careful not to send gray ash to cover its pink head. He scooped the ash around its stem, digging it out until he found solid earth and had made a ring of only earth around this little living thing.

"Did you hear me?" he asked of it. "You can tell the rest of the forest for me. We will not harm it." He sat silently for a few moments longer, looking out over the gray. The whole world was gray: the ash-covered ground, the dead trees, the sky…

Then there was this pink. And green.

Once again, Abel had a desire to pick the flower and carry it with him, maybe to replant it for his own. But he knew that if he did, it would never speak again. For here, in its home, it could speak to thousands of friends. He felt this. He knew it, even though he didn't completely understand it.

As he brushed it gently to leave, he looked at his hand that hovered there. It was his hand. And yet, it was not. The hands that had healed Kyrana of her wounds, the hands that took the manka cat in its grasp and made stones fly, they were not his. They were the hands of many, of the infinite. He looked out over the desolate gray as the words rolled through him, _these are not my hands_.

But here and now, they _were_ his hands. And he had a choice.

So he left the flower alone and returned to the green woods.

He knocked out their fire, using the last of his water to do so. The hissing woke everyone else up and they questioned him, but he waited for them to quiet before he asked them.

"Did any of you have fitful dreams? Dreams of fear, of doubt?"

Reluctantly, each of the other three nodded in their own way.

"I realized it was the forest. Even the wind was the forest, for it wasn't a normal wind: it was the Force."

Puli scoffed.

"I know, I know, it sounds crazy. But it's true. I know it."

"How do you know it?"

"Because…" But how did he know it? He didn't, really. But he felt it to be true, he felt it so strongly that he knew it.

"I believe him." And of all people, it was Kyrana.

"Think about it," Abel said excitedly, "the forest is so big, filled with so many plants and things, if they worked together, why wouldn't they be so powerful in the Force?"

As they debated and imagined the possibilities, the fire stopped smoking and went completely out. Then a strange knocking began.

"Shh!" Lev hushed them. "Listen." They stopped talking as the knocking and groaning grew louder and was met with rustling sounds.

"Looks like we made it even angrier," Puli said.

A little off to their right they saw the trees and plants shaking as if a great jet of wind were streaming through. Then they began to see what was happening.

The plants were moving. Very slowly and very slightly, but they were moving, bending their branches and stalks so that…so that…

"It's a path!" Abel exclaimed.

The woods had made a path for them. And far off in the distance they could see what looked like people.


	12. Chapter 12: Initiation

A/N

.

Pronunciation Guide:

Olya Lu = [olja lu], with the 'y' as a glide rather than the sound 'ee'

Relan Baagran = 'r' is flipped, as in Spanish

Kino = KEE-noh

Master Wi = wee

.

New Concept/Word

Melba bread

.

* * *

Chapter 12: Initiation

.

It felt like a grand homecoming. Even with Lev continuing to limp and the rest of them dirty and weary, the tree tunnel felt triumphant, like a line of soldiers hailing them or a great archway. As he passed by, Abel ran his hands across the trunks like a little kid tapping a stick against fence slats.

They soon found that those figures in the distance were And, Zek, Tiloa and Kay. They hailed each other and those four ran to meet them.

"What is this?" And asked breathlessly. "Did you guys do this?"

Puli snorted. "No."

"Or at least," Kyrana said, "not directly."

"It was the forest," Lev said. "It showed us the way."

"What the forest giveth, it taketh away," Abel said in English. And arched an eyebrow. "And gives back again," Abel mumbled.

"Did you not make it back?" Kyrana inquired.

"No, we did!" Kay exclaimed. "Two days ago."

"But we came back to look for you guys," And cut in. "We told the masters what had happened and told them to look for you."

"I bet they loved that," Puli mumbled.

"They…declined," Zek continued, "claiming that you would make it through. But we kept pushing and they finally told us that we could go back in to look for you if we wanted."

"And look! We brought food!" And held out several helpings of Melba bread from Ryloth, which, in addition to being extremely filling, tasted a lot like honey.

" _And_ medicine," Zek said, handing out a bottle to Lev. "Drink it all in one gulp and it should do the trick, at least for now." Lev did so.

After a quick bite, the group continued back together. It turned out that the path led back to where the others had been when it was made, so they pushed on from that point into the bush.

It didn't seem quite as thick as before. The floor was filled with soft plants like flowers and much of the thorny brambles had disappeared. The sun had also risen above the horizon and it was seeping through the leaves in a golden light. It was warm.

They met the masters on the lawn at about midday when the sun was high overhead. They had set up a white tent where some looked to be in serious discussion while others were simply lounging on chairs or in the grass. Two were even playing doryo.

The first to greet them was Master Prada who trotted over to them. He was beaming. "Well done, well done." He took each of them in turn into his arms.

Their other teachers sauntered over at a slower pace. Master Yul brought up the rear after several other teachers had given their congratulations. "First, you must eat and rest. But we want to hear tell, from each of you, of your journeys. But that can wait a little while yet."

They did as was suggested and were ushered back to their rooms, with the others masters looking curiously on. And and the others stayed to talk with the masters, having already settled back in, but Abel trudged back, flopped on his bed and took a well-deserved nap.

.

After he woke up several hours later, he returned to the white tent and talked with Master Yul about his experiences. He told him the plot details, about the search for water, sleeping in the willows, the poisonous wood (as he termed it), Lena and Odo leaving, the storm and search for shelter, staying back to help Lev while the four others left, the manka cat battle and the strange episode at the edge of the forest fire remains. But he also told, at Master Yul's prompting, his feelings about everything that had happened; how thirsty he had felt, how ashamed he was when Lev took ill, his conflict of whether to stay with him, his momentary…bravery? – or lapse of judgement – at attacking the manka cat, and everything else. The master did not comment, unless to offer a kind gesture. Then he bade him goodbye for the time being. Abel never did find out if the masters had been watching them or if everything they knew of the trial they learned from the initiates.

These were strange days, in that they weren't strange at all. There were no obligations. Abel took to meeting the others at the cafeteria for breakfast for a communal meal where they might discuss the events of their trial, but more often than not would debate politics or comment on a new song released by the latest Twi'lek superstar. Then they would go off, usually in smaller groups of threes or fours, to relax by the lake or play Force games or read.

They were only a group of nine, though, as Lena seemed to have completely severed her bridge with the others by leaving that day. Odo, at least, had apologized respectfully, though he still maintained that it had been the right thing to do. Kyrana was not pleased.

Abel had reached a truce with the Twi'lek girl. Though he doubted they would ever be "bosom friends," she at least had a newfound respect for Abel, which earned him a place at her side. Personally, Tiloa had never understood Abel's apparent need – as she called it – to be friends with Kyrana. But Abel could only respond that they had been friends once, and one-time friends should be forever-friends if both friends had good hearts. And though Kyrana's was protected with steel, it was good.

But of course, there was still a sense of foreboding as time crept closer to the Initiation Ceremony where the master would choose his or her apprentice. The initiates would not know until then and Abel was still worried. Would he be chosen? There were times that initiates were asked to stay on for another year or two of training. Yesterday, he had been talking with And and Tiloa, and they kept going on and on about their prospects. Apparently, they had both been approached by masters Olya Lu and Relan Baagran, respectively, about becoming their apprentices. Both were highly respected Jedi, with the human Olya Lu actually on the Jedi Council, and Twi'lek Relan Baagran, while still young, was being fast-tracked there as well. But no one had approached Abel. They tried to reassure him, but they didn't know.

The evening before the ceremony, Abel was walking in the garden behind the Temple where he had first met Master Yul. It seemed so severely different from that day. The plants, once so startling green, were just plants. The space, which had once seemed so mysterious, was a simple slab of sandstone. Abel walked the maze painted on the ground, but he never could seem to find the middle. After finding another dead end, he let out a "pah!"

"Trying to walk the maze, are we? I would have thought you were a little tired of mazes." Abel turned to find Master Yolin, enveloped in many cloaks, staring at him from under the shadow of the Temple. She descended to him.

"I have never found this exercise to be particularly helpful," she breathed.

 _Well, I've never found your advice to be particularly helpful_ , Abel thought. He was torn between laughing to himself and admonishing himself.

"Of course," Master Yolin said, turning to him, "you think the same thing of me." Her eyes twinkled. Abel stuttered, but she held up her hand.

"No, you are right." She sighed. "The mysteries of the Force are called so because they are, in fact, mysterious. And you have to accept that."

The grasses swayed in the light evening breeze.

"But sometimes, in all this mystery, the way is straight to the heart." And with a great leap, Master Yolin flew to the center of the maze, landing lightly on her feet. She turned to Abel, ushering him over, and he jumped the same.

She let out a jolly cackle. "Have you ever stood here before?" Abel shook his head. He had never made it to the center. "But you stand here now. It helps to remember that you don't always have to do things the winding way; or alone."

And with that, she strode across the painted lines and back into the Temple.

Abel shook his head. He could never just have a normal conversation with her.

.

They stood chatting away by the shores of the shining lake until Master Kloop called them on. The ten initiates, impeccably groomed in their gray robes, trailed after her one by one.

Master Kloop had told them it was traditional in this ceremony to start here by the lake and walk the path all the way up to the Temple. So they stepped lightly through the padded path of needles, by the great lawn of starships, and up the steep mountain path.

 _This would be the last time walking up this path as an initiate_ , Abel thought to himself. _Or, at least, he hoped._

They rounded the bend with the great arching tree and came into sight of the Great Temple. The front lawn, usually covered with initiates of all ages, was empty. So too was the courtyard, whose fountains sprayed forlornly, the noise echoing off of the gray buildings.

Tiloa nudged him and smiled. He smiled back.

The doors of the Temple opened and they filed into the packed sanctuary, filled to the brim with younglings and Jedi knights. There was no clapping to greet them, but even the silence was filled with excitement as the younglings muttered amongst themselves. The ten initiates stood in a row in front of the raised dais. Master Yul got up to speak.

"My young ones," he said dearly, looking on them, "you overcome all manner of things to be here today. Some of you faced tragedy, some loss, others old truths, and some a whole new world." He smiled on Abel. "Yet you all faced the Test; yes, the tests you took required skill, and the final test required all your power, but even greater than those, you have been tested your whole life here at the Academy. Understanding the Force, and its place in the world, and your place in the Force, is not an easy thing to do," he said, nodding sagely. "The call is different in every person, and we as teachers learn from you just as you learn from us. It is a wonder to see what you have become." He smiled at this. "It is times like these that I always feel my age," he said, almost as an aside. "But know that this is but the close of one chapter of learning and the beginning of another. You will leave your comrades and embark on a new journey with an experienced Jedi, one who will hone your skills, but more importantly, help you to see your path."

"In the days of the Old Republic, younglings were often given a master at the age that we today begin to accept initiates here at the academy. There were many reasons Master Skywalker and his followers decided to change this, but one reason was so that you young Jedi may come to know others like yourself. So as you go forth with your new master, I urge you to never forget what you made here; the Jedi are an order, a community, and to loose the fabric of that community is to lose our greatest strength. The Force, above all, is connection between all living things. We, the Jedi, welcome you into our fold."

The master raised his hands out to them, smiling, then clasped them together.

"Your masters will claim you now."

A strong woman with dark hair stepped forward.

"I, Olya Lu, claim the initiate And Kino to be my apprentice."

And stepped forward. Abel had never seen his friend look so solemn before. The stone, only about the size of a baseball, rose from the ground as Master Lu, whose hands were relaxed behind her back, fulfilled the ritual. And took the stone with the Force and guided it to his outstretched hand with not so much as a wobble.

Master Lu's frown quirked into a sly smile. "Well done, my young padawan." Abel could already tell that they'd make a good match. Master Lu took And's new brown robe marking him as a Jedi and placed it over his shoulders.

"You are now a Jedi" – she stuck a braid behind his ear – "apprentice." She laughed and shook his shoulders while the rest of the room clapped.

One by one, the initiates became Jedi until Abel was the last one left. _Which was weird, because, alphabetically, I should have been selected earlier._

He could tell something was wrong. Master Yul dropped back to confer with the other teachers. He saw Master Prada kept glancing his way, giving him worried looks. Abel began to breathe quickly. Looking over to his Jedi friends, most of them were conspicuously averting their gaze. Only Kyrana and Tiloa gave him comforting looks.

Master Yul returned looking disheveled. "I am sorry, Abel, but – I really had thought – perhaps if we…" He turned back again to the masters and a tall human with dark hair who Abel had never seen before, simply shook his head. "You will have to come back with us…"

But Abel didn't really hear the rest. He never thought they would be this cruel. Let him get his hopes up, string him all the way here only to drop him in front of the whole school… The rock in his throat plummeted to his stomach where it sat and stewed.

"That will not be necessary," a voice spoke. He knew that voice.

Master Ma Fenn strode onto the dais accompanied by a small feline Jedi.

"My gravest apologies," she said, bowing to both Master Yul and – to Abel's surprise – to him. "Master Wi and I were unfortunately detained. But I am here to claim the initiate Abel Lasse to be my apprentice."

.

It all happened so quickly that looking back on it, Abel found that he remembered little of it. He mostly remembered his head buzzing. But once he got control of his faculties, he performed the ritual of the stone – it was easy for him now that he knew he was on his way – and let Master Fenn drape him in the garb of the Jedi.

The rituals complete, clapping sounded off the walls of the temple, and the party began in the outer hall. Standing beside his new master, Abel received congratulations from the other Jedi and their padawans. In an uncharacteristic display, Kyrana actually hugged him.

"That was cruel. I am sorry you had to go through that," she said sincerely to him, but he shrugged it off. "You earned it, Abel."

"You didn't always think I would, though, did you?"

"No," she said matter-of-factly, "I did not. But I was wrong."

"Really? You were wrong? I have to write home about this."

She sniffed. "I admit my faults." She looked a little miffed, then returned to a pleasant smile. "Anyways, good luck. I am excited. Master Wil is in charge of one of the largest Jedi homes in the galaxy, located in Eriadu." Her face lit up as she said this.

"I'm happy for you," Abel said, and he meant it. He knew that Kyrana wanted, more than anything, to help people. "It's funny that we both ended up with the only two Kel Dor Jedi for masters."

She shrugged. "I suppose."

"Yours certainly seems to fit," Abel said, thinking about their shared passions. "And Master Fenn was the Jedi who brought me here. Did I ever tell you that?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes."

"But of course, I have no idea what she does."

Kyrana looked aghast. "Do you not know what Master Fenn does?"

But right then, Master Fenn herself came up to them. "Padawans," she said, and they greeted her. "This is Master Iril Theserleghbenwa of the Jedi Council." The old Ithorian, straining, bowed low, and they bowed back. But then it clicked for Abel.

"Wait, I saw you my first day at the Temple! It looked…like you were singing to a flower, or something."

Kyrana turned to look at Abel like he was crazy, but Master Iril just looked bemused.

"Was I? It certainly sounds like me." The squeaks coming out of his two Ithorian mouths made him sound a little like Donald Duck.

"Do you…remember what you were doing?"

"No. Ithorians always like our flowers. I often sing to them." And he left it at that. Abel felt a little crestfallen. He had thought there was something mysterious about the way Master Iril had appeared with the flower then disappeared. He had thought of it when he went into the forest that day and really connected to the Force for the first time. But it was nothing more than a pleasant old fellow enjoying a flower.

Master Wil had come up and was talking to her new padawan and Master Fenn. Abel had tuned out of their conversation and was looking absentmindedly at the Ray, still turning.

"What color do you see?" Master Iril hobbled to his side.

"Right now? A big bright orange."

Master Iril nodded. "As you should, I should think."

Abel turned to him. "Why? Does it mean something?"

Master Iril just shrugged. "Not that I know. But it feels right."

Abel sighed violently. "I had thought… It always seems like you masters are so wise, but then you never seem to know anything." It spilled out before Abel could stop it. He winced and looked at Master Iril who again looked bemused. "Sorry. But it's just like this Ray, here. It seems important and seems like it's going to hold answers, but all it does is turn and turn and change colors. It's just a disco ball."

"Hmm. I don't know what a…disco ball is, but everything else…yes!" He hopped a little. "Life is usually more questions than answers and masters are always learning just as padawans are. Did you listen to Elm's speech?" Abel nodded and was about to protest, but Master Iril barreled on. "And while I understand, the comparison is unwarranted…between me and the Ray. We masters will usually try to point you in the right direction – unless we're having fun." He chuckled. "But the Ray is something else, something wild. You say it seems to hold answers…perhaps it does, but that doesn't mean it's going to give them to you, now does it?" Chuckling to himself, Master Iril hobbled away.

.

They left the next morning. One by one the masters came to take their padawans away. To where, they did not know. Abel woke up that morning in the same exact room he had occupied for his first two years. It looked the same as it had when he first arrived, completely bare of any personal items and impeccably clean. He couldn't help but feel saddened by its barrenness. It had been his hideaway, his constant in this new wonderland. And now it had returned to its resting state, stripped clean for the next initiate, having already forgotten him.

He remembered lying here when And pounded on his door, rousing him for a night of escapades in the forest. Abel touched the bed and smiled sweetly. Outside a yulier called, and the faint fresh scent of namiko wafted in through the open window. He would miss it.

He had already said goodbye to all his teachers and friends the night before. Nak had been especially tough, grabbing him in a great bear hug when he had visited the farm. The sunflowers were in full bloom.

The academy had returned to normal in their wake as Abel wove in and out of initiates in the courtyard practicing their various assignments. A stray stone came flying to his head and Abel stopped it in mid-air with the Force, returning it hovering to its owner. The little human girl mumbled a thank you, staring at him with fascination. Abel smiled at her and moved on.

Back across the lawn, back beside the gnarled tree, back down the hill to the where he first arrived. He saw Master Fenn standing in front of the ramp on the nearest starship, a small ship barely half the size of the Millennium Falcon. He approached.

"Hello again, my apprentice." Under her mask, he could never tell if she was smiling or not. "Shall we?"

"I don't know. Where are we going?" She laughed her metallic laugh.

"You will find out soon enough." He made to go up.

"Wait!" he heard from behind him.

Kyrana was jogging lightly over to him. Looking over to his right, he saw that her Master Prim Wil was also awaiting her.

Abel stepped off the ramp to meet Kyrana. She slowed and eventually stopped right in front of him. Now that she was there, it seemed she didn't know what to say. She raised a hand to stroke her lek, but still looked right at him. They were so close, Abel could smell the faint fragrance of namiko floating from her skin. Finally, she offered her hand.

Abel took it, grasping her forearm.

"May the Force be with you, Jedi," she said to him, her eye glinting.

"And also with you," Abel said.

And with that, they turned from each other and to their respective Masters, ready to walk whatever path was in store for them.


	13. Chapter 13: Epilogue

Epilogue

It was the same ship that had taken him away from his home nearly two years ago. It was a newer model Pathfinder, the Jedi version of the A-24 scout ships designed for deep space exploration. Its sleek nose broadened to a wide back filled with sensors and shields, making it look like a great bird of prey. Abel wondered why they would need such a ship for their first flight together as master and apprentice.

Master Fenn was strangely silent during the multi-day journey, refusing to speak outside of courtesies like "Good morning, young padawan," and "Would you like some tea?" Abel had long ago learned patience at the Jedi Academy so he said nothing, accompanying his master in the bare sitting room filled with instruments of detection and dissection.

He had tried very soon into the ride to take a peek at the target coordinates, but the master had locked the cockpit.

It was therefore a very lonely ride, with only the metallic click of boots and the gentle hum of hyperspace for company.

They arrived the next day as Abel, who had been napping on a cot in an alcove, felt the ship shudder out of hyperspace. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window on the world of ice.

"Ilum it is called," Master Fenn said. They were looking out the forward windows of the cockpit, already touched down on the white world. Outside it was completely still; not a flake of snow stirred from the ground. "This is your final step to become my apprentice."

While Abel was getting a little sick of each seemingly "final step" in a never-ending Return-of-the-King-like fashion, this time he at least understood exactly what was to happen.

"Yes, I know. Will you come with me?"

"No. This you must do alone."

"I would say that I do not know what to look for. But I would expect you to say something like 'you will know it when you see it.'" Abel frowned, but he could sense that Master Fenn was laughing to herself.

"Quite so."

Abel crept into the cave carved into the wall of ice and started to search. For hours he wove through the endless tunnels, searching the stalactites and mites for the glinting light. He was reminded of that other cave on Tython, filled with those beautiful blue crystals. It had been much easier then, for they were strewn across the cave like glitter. His prize today was much rarer. Even with all those choices, he had still managed to cause a mess. He had almost gotten them killed. But today was different. He would be careful. He would be precise. And most certainly, he had no fear of what could be lying in wait in the cave.

He did not find it that day, but he did not go back. He sat on the ground, finding a comfortable position, and closed his eyes. His breath came out in puffs of white, but as he sank lower and lower, it fell into a steady stream.

He awoke many hours later and not a hair of him was touched with ice. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was in a great cavern. Like every inch of the tunnels, it was fully covered with ice. But what really got Abel to his feet was what was at the center. A great pillar stood there, a pillar of ice a meter thick. It had once been a separate stalactite and stalagmite, but they had formed one pillar together. Around it, other growths protruded from the ground and ceiling, and Abel had the distinct impression of a tree.

And he saw not one but two glints. One came from a stalagmite near the pillar, the other hung from the ceiling.

And now he had a choice that he never expected. Should he just claim the one on the ground? It was perfectly easy to go and pick it up. Or should he claim the one from the ceiling. It would require skill to get it; would that demonstrate his worthiness, a further bond with the crystal?

Either way, one would be chosen, the other forfeited.

" _You say it seems to hold answers…perhaps it does, but that doesn't mean it's going to give them to you, now does it?"_

Abel glanced upward to the crystal of great height.

 _"Sometimes, in all these mysteries, the way is straight to the heart."_

He walked calmly up to the crystal on the ground, grasped it in his hand, and walked away.

.

He returned from the cave clenching the Kyber crystal in his tight fist. He found Master Ma Fenn sitting at the communal table sipping a cup of tea.

"I have prepared the room for you," she said. The scientific equipment had been pushed to the walls and in the center sat a plushy cushion and a pile of junk. But Abel recognized that small pile. "I took the liberty of obtaining your instruments from Master Djelsic. He assured me that they were in perfect working condition. You have practiced before?"

"Yes…but I have never been successful."

"That is acceptable." After placing her cup calmly on the table she rose from her seat and sank to the floor, folding her legs next to the pile opposite the cushion. "I will help you."

Abel took his appointed seat and placed his crystal into the pile. He shifted uneasily. Master Fenn was staring at him.

"Are you afraid to begin?"

"No…not afraid." Abel bit his lip. "I just realized, I never did choose my Path."

His master grunted. "There's still time for that yet. I will help you to discover it."

"What do you usually do master? How will I be spending my days?"

"Hopefully with a little less questions," Master Fenn grumbled. "But I spend my days doing the will of the Council."

"Everyone does, I know, but specifically."

She stared at him. "No, I mean to say that I am one of the twelve Council members. So you will attend Council meetings and accompany me on my missions and research." She looked at him quizzically, probably expecting him to already have known this.

Abel should have been excited. And deep down, he really was. But the first emotion to come was fear, and confusion was hot on its heels. He didn't deserve the attention of one of the greatest living Jedi. He barely even deserved to have passed the Academy.

"Why did you choose me?" He had finally asked the question he had been bursting to ask.

"Because I believed I could teach you and you deserved to be taught. Why else does a teacher choose a student?"

"Oh," he said, a little disappointed. "I thought there was some reason. Something I had done. Something…great. Although, of course, I didn't really know what it could be."

Her demeanor softened. She reached out and touched him. She seemed at a loss for words, but finally said, "The potential is always there." Then she sat a little straighter. "You know, being humble is a trait little sought but highly valued in Jedi; it is a special person who is such. But when brought to excess, it can be indulging. It does little good to deny the greatness in you."

Abel felt color rise to his cheeks as the master indicated to him to begin.

He closed his eyes and began to weave the junk in front of him into a dance. He could feel Master Fenn close by, helping to guide his hands. One part into another, the others swirling around like a mini solar system around the sun, the Kyber crystal in the center. Every time he'd feel his concentration waning, a helping hand was there to push him back.

The last part clicked into place and he opened his eyes. The metal cylinder hung there before him, coated in its fine grip of brown leather.

"Perfect," his master said. Abel never thought anything he had made before was perfect. But staring at it floating there, glinting in the phosphorescent light, he couldn't help but agree.

"But it wasn't just me," he said. "You helped."

"Oh, my young padawan. These are never built by two, only by one, its master."

"But…I felt you, your presence."

"I calmed my mind to weave peaceful feelings, but nothing more."

"But it wasn't just me. I could feel something else guiding my hands, something that kept pushing me in the right direction, helping me concentrate."

Ma Fenn laughed. "The Force? Yes, it flows through us."

Abel looked at his hands. The thought came to him: _These are not my hands_. The phrase repeated through him and he understood it. The Force was alive in him.

He took the lightsaber from the air and ignited it. It flashed green, a biting, brilliant, everlasting green.

End Part 1 of _Into the Force_


	14. Chapter 14: The Apparition

A/N

Welcome to Part 2! I should be finished posting the finale of Book 1 by late September. Thank you so much for reading, and as always, I appreciate any feedback or dialogue you'd care to comment.

* * *

 **Part II: The Voyage**

 **Chapter 1: The Apparition**

It was summertime. The grass was long, the skies were hazy, and the air was sticky. And Abel was back on Earth.

Four years had passed since he left his home planet for his Jedi training. He had occasionally returned, but each time he had felt a little less connected. It was an odd feeling to be estranged from everything he had once known. Earth was like a world in a snow globe, and he was looking in on it from the outside. Even as he sat below the cherry trees and felt the breeze rippling the pond, the world still felt like it was painted in pastel. It had the look right before a solar eclipse; the eerie gray light, the similar-to-but-not-quite-dusk, the dull, muted world.

This was not actually the case, of course. In truth, it was a perfectly bright, albeit hot, summer day. Abel was in the park today to think, as he often did now. He had spent the last two years following Master Fenn and completing other missions. Most of these 'missions' were quiet: once, he was sent to help soothe a grieving widow. Sometimes he would find himself in the midst of a Star Wars-esque mission, lightsabers drawn and starship chasing. But these were not his normal. He had chosen a different path, one of scholarship and learning. He spent most of his days reading or practicing. He also spent a great deal traveling. His mentor, Master Fenn, had chosen the Red Path, and was one of the Jedi Order's most prominent ambassadors, so she often brought Abel along to help mediate. Abel used these opportunities to learn more about the different worlds and species, as his specialty had become history and linguistics.

But as Abel learned of different worlds, the nagging feeling of his own world's exclusion gnawed at him. He had convinced the Jedi Order to keep his home world a secret, fearing the repercussions on his fellow Earthlings. But he knew this could not last forever; sooner or later, someone would find its location and disrupt the balance. Perhaps it would be good: humans, realizing life existed outside of their world, would seek the Galactic Union with open arms, and the poor would see a great increase in quality of life, and international strife would abate. But he didn't think this was likely; poor exist throughout the galaxy, regardless of technology. And how would national leaders react when threatened with a greater power? How would religions react with this new worldview? Would the natural world be doomed like Coruscant? Abel felt he needed to intervene, to somehow ease his world into its new realization. So he returned to Earth to pave its road of destiny.

Except he had no idea how to do it. He often talked with Master Fenn, and other masters gave him advice, but nothing seemed to make sense to him. He even tried discussing the issue with friends from home. He had hoped to present pieces of proof, but even the friends he talked to were confused and disbelieving. People are very good at explaining away things that don't fit their worldview. He thought that maybe he could court the ears of the wise and powerful, but this was an abysmal failure. Throughout the rest of the galaxy, his title of "Jedi" afforded him respect; but back on Earth, he would have to start from scratch. And schmoozing and playing politics were never his thing. And then there was the problem of the Force. Although he had managed to connect with it, it was still severely dulled on Earth.

That's why he was again to be found thinking in a park. The nice breezes had stopped, and the pond was still, looking a sickly green. Even under the shade of the cherry tree, sweat clung to his skin. A nagging sense prodded him. He twitched. He drew a rattling breath. His head hurt mildly. He quickly stood up from his bench and began walking along the row of cherry trees.

 _What to do? What to do?_

He walked by an older gentleman on another bench. A jogger plodded past. Across the pond, he spied a couple with a basket. It was a workday, and a hot day. It was quiet, apart from the roar of the cicadas.

He continued on along the bank of the pond. Behind him stood the barren swing set and jungle gym, and beyond that the parking lot. He loped towards the overgrown part of the park where critters crawled and teens gathered on moonlit nights. It was swampy here, teeming with life. _Well, I guess I found those cicadas_. He thought he might spend time under the canopy of these trees. But just as the asphalt path gave way to dirt, he sensed another person in the park.

He felt an odd tugging from this person. After several years of training, he had grown more attuned to his senses and he was pretty sure that there was something (what was it?) about this person.

Familiar. But powerful.

A sort of twisting in his chest, a tingling in his hands…

Then he thought: could it be another Force-user?

His heart hummed and nearby leaves swayed slightly as excitement flushed through him. He wove through the flora of the forest, grown thick and green in the summer, making for the presence. Finally, he pulled down a leafy branch and saw her.

She was lying on the ground under the last cherry tree. A breeze disturbed the oppressive heat, rippling the pond that lay just beyond. The sun was streaking down in shafts through the leaves of the cherry tree, dappling the ground with light and shade. Her dark hair was splayed wide in tangles above her head on the ground; he thought it looked rather like a halo with the sunbeam illuminating it. Her hands were raised above her, holding a book. Abel could sense her concentration: she seemed intensely engaged for just a pleasure read. And sure enough, he saw a notebook at her side and a pencil near it that had rolled off onto the ground. _Summer homework?_ he wondered. He was also trying to figure out if he knew her, but from his angle he couldn't see her face. Instead, he decided to see if she was indeed Force-sensitive.

He adjusted his breathing, drawing deep, slow breaths. He saw to the girl. Then he began to lay everything else aside. He let go of his questions about her. He let go of his quest to help his world. He let go of the slight ache in his arm. He let go of the heat of the day. He let go of thinking of the green world around him. He gently raised his arm and faced the palm of his hand in her direction. He felt his mind reach his palm and felt the bonds of the Force propel through him to the girl.

And he felt no response, no resistance or pressure against him. He quickly washed away the eye of the storm that had sprung within him and the world came flooding back into focus. Of course, he could always be wrong. But he did not think so. Whatever other failings he might have, this was one skill he was pretty good at. Or so said Master Fenn. But he still felt…

 _Oh well_ , he thought. He began to step back. _I've been standing here creeping far too long anyways._ But just as he was about to let go of the branch, something caught his eye. More like tore at it.

Standing on the bank of the pond, staring at the girl, was a masked figure with a red lightsaber.

 _What the- I mean, how? !_ Abel didn't know how to react; his eyes bulged as his breath caught. The girl couldn't see the figure behind her book, but he was staring calmly right at her. Abel considered Force-ing something to get her attention, but decided that would only make things worse. Should he call someone, a Jedi? Well, eventually yes, but that wouldn't help right now.

As Abel's thoughts spiraled, the masked figure suddenly turned his head and stared directly at Abel. And though he wore a mask, he felt him smile. Attention back to the girl, the figure took a step and raised his lightsaber. It didn't matter, Abel realized, what the situation was or how ludicrous it seemed to be, he knew what he had to do. With a sickness in his stomach and legs like led, Abel moved into the clearing with his lightsaber flying to his hand, igniting green.

.

The figure turned to face him as Abel Force-pushed. Abel felt the power and saw the rush like wind; it toppled the book out of the girl's hands, but the figure merely held up his hand and stayed exactly as he was. Instead, he returned with a Force-push of his own and Abel was thrown back violently, landing with a sickening thud. He felt the wind knocked out of him and the bruise beginning to form on his back. He hurled himself up and saw the girl cowering under the raised red lightsaber arcing down. Abel threw himself into the air, hurtling fifty feet until his green blade met the red, stopping its deathly strike. Abel felt his adversary's eyes bore into him and he looked to his eye slits on the mask. Straining against the weight of holding his lightsaber, he tried to pierce his gaze through the mask. He could almost see…the shadowed slits were nearly…he felt… He felt his legs give way and he was falling, and it was all over.

He was lying on his back looking up at the sun. His adversary was gone; not only could he see no sign of the cloaked assassin, but he felt no fear or danger. The day had returned. He quickly realized he was lying on top of something squirming. The girl! He hurried to get off and coming to his knees he turned to look at her.

The sun was again flowing through the leaves of the cherry tree and the grass beneath the two of them was green and rippling through the wind like the water. He was leaning over her, gazing upon her face framed by her crown-like head of hair. But her face was full of fear. And Abel realized he knew her.

"Violet," he said, breathlessly. "I…I'm sorry, I don't know who he was…" Abel didn't know where to begin to explain, or even how much he should explain. He began to get to his feet. "Look, I don't know what he was doing, but he was about to attack you, I'm sorry if I –" But as he reached down to help her off, she recoiled from him, eyes still wide and fearful. She scampered up and fled to the tree trunk. She pressed her back against it. Abel stopped, confused.

"I'm not going to – to hurt you," he tried to reassure her. But he himself was so rattled that he could pass on any sense of peace. "I was trying to save you from the cloaked man." Finally, she seemed to focus on something. After a few shuttering breaths, she spoke.

"What man?"

Now Abel was confused. A sinking feeling began to crawl inside of him.

"Did…did you not see another man here? Right now? The man I was fighting?" She looked, if anything, even more frightened. Slowly, she shook her head. Abel didn't know what to do. Should he try to speak more words of comfort? Try to explain the situation? Try to ask her more questions to _understand_ the situation. He looked to the ground where he saw her book. He picked it up, along with her notebook and the two halves of her pencil; it had broken. He offered them to her. She started to back away but stopped and thought, then reached to collect her things. They grazed their hands. Hers were cold, but steady. She began to back away in earnest and realizing no phantom winds or hissing lights would assail or hinder her, she turned and fled through the woods like a deer. Abel watched her disappear as the path of leaf-lidded branches swayed back into place, as if nothing had just disturbed their peaceful day.


	15. Chapter 15: Flight of the Bees

**Chapter 2: Flight of the Bees**

"And then he just vanished, as if he had never been there at all." Abel had just finished explaining the bizarre events of that afternoon to his master Ma Fenn. Her clawed fingers absentmindedly rubbed her cheek as she listened to his story through the hologram. "So…what do you think. Was he really there, then vanished like that? But why would Violet not have seen him? Or was he a projection, or even a vision? But I felt the Force-push from him and clashed lightsabers." Ma continued to stroke her cheek.

"Yes, this is…certainly odd." She paused. "I will think on this and inform the other masters. In the meantime, I think it best that you leave for Coruscant and we can examine the matter more fully."

Abel hesitated.

"Yes?" Master Fenn replied.

"It's just that…well, Violet, the girl, she saw the whole thing. What should I do about that?"

"Yes… It would have been best if a Jedi Master were there. They would have most likely been able to _suggest_ she forget what she saw. But as it is… You will not come immediately to Coruscant. Instead, stay there and talk to her, make sure she is in an agreeable mental state before departing. Now," began Master Fenn, before Abel could ask how he could go about that, "I must depart for the council. By the way, have you had any inspiration regarding the fate of Earth?" Abel sighed.

"No…not really." Master Fenn stared back, then nodded with a short "Hmpf."

"Keep in touch. I hope to hear of your departure soon." The hologram disappeared.

Abel fell back into his chair exhausted. He appreciated all he had learned from Master Fenn, but, even still, she could be enigmatic and tiring to talk to. He thought about what she had said in regard to Violet and it didn't look peachy.

Abel knew Violet Grey from his summer swim team. She was younger than him, so they didn't often share lanes, but they would occasionally exchange the odd word or two. She was also an only child and rather shy. Abel realized that he probably should have recognized her, because she was often seen with a book in hand. But she had changed in the four years he had been away.

Abel stood up and went downstairs for a glass of water. He remembered once when he and several other teammates were playing a card game after practice. Violet had been sitting nearby and they invited her over. Though she had risen tentatively and spoke little during the first round, she blossomed as the game went on and even gloated over Abel when she won two rounds in a row.

He was smiling and shaking his head when his mother came into the kitchen. He had already told his family what happened. She came over and gave him a hug.

"What were you smiling about?" she asked.

"Oh...nothing. Just thinking about how stupid all of this is." She gave an extra squeeze then broke the hug.

"You always know that you can come back and live a normal life here."

"Well, that's just it, apparently I can't."

She didn't respond for a while. He leaned against the fridge, staring off.

Abel gazed around their kitchen. It was a running joke in their family, the kitchen. His mom had been complaining for about ten years now that they needed a new one; the yellowing fridge, always overstuffed with food, plenty of it moldy, couldn't make ice and had that one drawer that always fell off; the countertops were vinyl, and the island in the middle was held up by a measly two-by-four; the floors retained dirt no matter how many times they were scrubbed, the cream cabinets hanging at angles, the flowery wallpaper peeling at the edges, the wooden breadbox, the endless torn cookbooks, the blunted knives, the explosion of Tupperware and proliferation of mugs that seemed to accumulate like the dust in the lace curtains that filtered the light from the window overlooking the once flowering garden that had turned brown and blossomed no more.

"You also know that, if it's possible, we could always…" Abel knew what she was going to say.

"No, you don't need to. I mean, if you want to…but, you don't need to on my account. You guys have already walked most of your path here on Earth." His mom barked.

"We can always change our paths mid-way through, you know." She paused again. "If there's anything Daddy or I can do to make it better…"

"I know, I know. Unless you have a brilliant introduction and integration strategy…" She snapped her lips and shook her head.

"No-ope. I really don't."

Abel looked out the window. He could hear the distorted sounds of children playing while one squirrel chased another round and round a tree. He couldn't tell if it was a case of a turf war or…you know… But it wasn't springtime. He remembered after the card game, they had all gone out to eat, but Violet didn't show. The next day they played cards again, and many days afterward, but she never came back to the table, preferring to sit alone in her own little world. He thought about looking up the Grey residence, but decided to take a nap instead. He had had a long day.

.

Like the proverbial Rip van Winkle, Abel found that a week had gone by and he still had not tried contacting Violet Grey. O.K., he hadn't really been asleep for a week, more like asleep at the wheel. But as Abel sat under the shade of a tree at the pool, it seemed that fate might make the decision for him, for Violet Grey had just appeared.

He often accompanied his family to the pool, spending much of his time thinking or meditating. On this particular day he had been lightly dozing when he felt a slight tug. He knew that sensation. And sure enough, Violet Grey was here.

She had just placed her bag delicately on a poolside chair directly under the hot sun. He could tell she was hesitating, perhaps trying to avoid glancing in Abel's direction. It was unlikely that she hadn't noticed him there. The pool was mostly empty, as was normal in August, and Violet was not the type to let her surroundings go unobserved.

Perhaps in an effort to be decisive, she shimmied out of her pants and pulled her shirt over her head, her messy bun bouncing over her bony back. She tip-toed over to the water's edge and sat on the wall. She pulled out her goggles and splashed them with water, rubbing the insides. Abel remembered that she normally did this before a race. Then she slid in and began to swim freestyle, lap after lap. Abel knew he should get up. He knew he should speak to her, but how could he? It would be best to leave it.

A couple shapes blocked his vision of Violet swimming. "Abel!" Jordan and Jeremy Heston called. Abel, squinting at them through the sun, waved back vaguely. The two Heston boys had been star swimmers on their team, and although Abel had never been what you would call 'friends' with them, they were harmless enough.

"Hi guys," Abel answered back. They seemed to be in high spirits, but a beat passed, and no one said anything. Abel realized they were probably waiting for him to say something.

"So…how's it out been abroad?" Jordan asked.

Abel stifled a laugh – yes, he'd certainly been 'abroad'– then he struggled to remember where it was he was supposed to have been.

"Yeah! Norway's been great!"

"That's, like, near Germany, right?" the younger Jeremy asked, turning to his brother.

Abel tilted his head. "Close enough."

"So are you a local now. Can you speak it?"

"Ag muni nequid jod galgalin."

He rattled it off so smoothly that they nodded to each other and made noises of awe.

"What does it mean?"

A smile tugged at Abel's mouth. Of course, he didn't speak Norwegian, so he spoke Basic instead. What he had actually said was, 'I don't understand that language,' but he told them:

"It means, 'Hello, how are you doing?'" After they nodded, Abel added: "No, really, how are you guys doing?"

As they started talking about college and other resume details, Abel fixed his face into a permanent pleasant picture, but he let his mind roll over their lives. Jordan Heston had been his age, and they often swam against each other. Jordan always got the better of him – it wasn't ever a contest – but he was always so polite. So polite that it bored him. Politeness is an interesting thing: it is a strong quality to possess, but when brought to excess it dwarfs any real character.

Suddenly Abel was struck with the thought: it is for the sake of polite characters like them and all the other normal, dull, happy, high, sick, sour, crying, sighing, dying people of the world that he was sitting here on this chair. He didn't really want to sit there anymore.

But Jordan had other ideas. "Hey! Why don't we race?"

"Oh, Jordan, I don't know," Abel sighed, shaking his head. But now it had gotten in Jordan's head and he was practically vibrating.

"Aw, why not? C'mon, Abel." Jordan's smile was so genuine; but how could Abel explain that all the energy had gone out of his limbs for reasons he could hardly comprehend? The August sun was just too long for such joy.

As a pained look threatened to shadow his face, a high voice behind the brothers spoke: "I'll race you."

Violet was leaning half-way out of the water on the wall like a mermaid on a rock, her goggles crowning her head.

Jordan's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. No, that's alright, we're just trying to get Abel into the pool."

"It doesn't seem like he wants to go in," Violet said plainly.

"That's why he needs us," Jeremy said, "To coax him."

"Or to pull him in," Jordan said. At that, they pounced on Abel and lifted him up out of his chair, half dragging him to the water's edge. The brothers were laughing, clearly thinking it was all in good fun, but Abel suddenly kicked out and they dropped him as if scalded.

 _Why did I? – because it was like –_

"Hey!" Abel's thoughts were interrupted by Violet who came stomping over to them. She crossed her arms and squinted at the boys who towered over her. "He doesn't want to race you."

"O.K., O.K.," Jordan conceded, putting his hands up. "We thought he was just…playing hard to get. In a way." Jeremy gave him an odd look and Jordan shrugged. "But don't worry, Abel gets it."

Abel got to his feet and nodded. He didn't really know why Violet would insert herself, but she wasn't looking at him. She was continuing to stare down Jordan, her face red and chest heaving, and he seemed to get the picture because he had the decency to look sheepish.

"Alright. Violet, right? You wanted to race?"

She looked blankly for a second, perhaps forgetting that she had offered, then shrugged.

Abel watched as the two set up in front of the wall. They talked for a bit – probably setting up the parameters of the race – then dove in and started stroking.

Abel let out a breath. He didn't know whether to reclaim his seat or to approach the lanes; he stayed where he was, under the shade of the oak tree behind him. The rest of the pool was bathed in sunlight, dancing off the waves of Violet and Jordan as they pounded out another lap. Their strokes were vicious as they streaked through the water. They finally finished, with Violet taking in huge gulps of air. Jordan had beaten her by a body length.

"Another one," she choked. Jordan thought he had misheard, but she insisted.

"Nah, that's alright. Besides, you wore me out." Although Jordan was trying to let her off, she didn't take kindly to the insinuation.

"Nah!" she said with a forced smile, "let's do it again."

Abel made up his mind quickly. He flung off his shirt and grabbed his goggles.

"Hey! Look who's changed his mind!" Jordan shouted as Abel approached.

"You. Me. Fifty free." And with a three-step run up, Abel dove in.

The water was a sickly warm. _Just like everything else_ , Abel thought. He paid the race little mind; it mattered none to him if he won or lost. But the warm water struck him. Nothing was how it should be. Yes, it was summertime, but even the heat felt unnatural. And summertime should be a time of joy and ease not doubt and difficulty. It was the asphyxiation of the alien.

He finished even further behind Jordan than Violet had, but a little girl-Heston waddled over to their lane to call the boys over for dinner. With a cheery goodbye, Jordan hopped out to follow his sister, leaving Abel staring at Violet with an empty lane between them.

They were the only two left in the water. It was adult swim and all the children had left for the playground. A light breeze rippled the water and Violet shivered.

"Are you O.K.?" Abel asked.

She shrugged then dunked her head under water and took off her goggles.

"I…I just wanted to thank you for swimming for me," Abel said when she resurfaced. "I…I just wasn't in the mood, I guess."

"You're welcome," Violet answered. "I could tell you were feeling uncomfortable."

Abel nodded, leaning with his back against the wall while Violet pulled her hair out of her bun and ran it through the water.

"And I hope you didn't mind that I jumped in to race when I did," Abel said. "It looked like you were tired."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Abel paddled over to the lane rope and, folding his arms, leaned on it facing her.

"But I hope you don't think that I thought you _couldn't_ do it. I just –"

"It's fine, Abel," Violet laughed. "I _was_ tired. From all my previous laps, I mean." She paused and laughed again. "I'm just competitive, that's all."

She leaned against her lane rope to face Abel, a lane still between them. Abel knew he should bring it up, but –

"I also never thanked you for inviting me."

Abel furrowed his brow. "Inviting you?"

"Several years ago? After we had played cards that one day? You had invited me to join you all to get lunch."

Abel didn't remember doing that.

"Oh. But you didn't come, did you?"

"No," Violet whispered. She wouldn't meet his eye and stared at the shifting spots of shade on the water. "I…that's not really me. At least, not at the beginning."

Something clicked for Abel. "So that's why you never joined us again? You thought we'd be…annoyed at you?"

She opened her mouth then closed it again, swinging from the lane rope.

"I guess I understand," Abel said. "It's the kind of thing I might do."

Violet smiled wistfully, perhaps from some distant memory. Then they caught each other's eye and smiled differently, as if they were part of a conspiracy that no one else could see. And Abel felt a certain understanding had passed between them, an appreciation of a fact of life that they had both lived and been unable to share, but which now provided the bridge over the yawning canyon that had crumbled and grown with each passing year.

Violet rested her chin on her folded arms on the lane rope and studied Abel, and Abel mimicked her. Her face grew serious.

"So. What happened in the park?"

And with one clean cut of Violet's sword, it was out.

Abel sighed. "You wouldn't believe me."

Her only response was an arch of an eyebrow.

Abel sighed once more. There was nothing else for it.

"I…am a Jedi."

She didn't respond, except to continue staring at him.

"Like, from _Star Wars_? Except it's real? I know it makes no sense, but I, like, have control of the Force? Well, not control, but I can use the Force. The Force is –"

"I know what the Force is, I've seen _Star Wars_." But that was all she said. But now she frowned and stood up, water sloshing as she did so.

"I know it makes no sense, but it is true."

He left it at that as Violet thought it through. Finally, she spoke again, and it was measured and deliberate. "I am just trying to figure out if you are actually cruel enough to make fun of me."

Abel realized the problem. "No, Violet, I'm not! O.K., you may think I'm crazy, even though I'm not, but…Violet."

After hesitating, she reluctantly met his gaze. "I am not making it up. I wouldn't do that. O.K.?"

She studied his eyes and the rest of his face, trying to detect some hint of lies. "Your face is too kind to be mean, I think."

Abel let out a breath. "Thanks, I guess. And to prove to you that I am what I say I am…"

Abel stretched out his right hand towards the water in the lane in front of them, like he was telling it to "halt." He breathed slowly, gathering the Force which was so weak on his silent planet. He gave a gentle push.

Violet's mouth popped open as she saw waves appear in front of him, a steady stream like a jet which blew at the top of the water. Violet felt the waves flow towards her and push her back. Abel closed his hand and the waves ceased.

For a moment Violet was stunned silent. "But…could that have been the wind?"

"That started right when I put up my hand, and stopped when I stopped? That was focused just here?" Abel replied.

Violet was starting to breathe heavily. "But…how?"

"How what? How does it all exist? How did _I_ come to have this power? How could such a fantasy actually be reality? It would take forever and a day to understand, and even I understand so little."

She raised one of her hands to her head and stared down, unable to process everything.

"Well, why…why do I know about it? Why were you there that day in the park?"

"I was there trying to think about how to integrate our two worlds, Earth and the rest of the galaxy. Everything in _Star Wars_ is real. You just happened to be there. But then…something appeared next to you, someone that had a red lightsaber and I reacted. I don't know what it was. But you couldn't see it, could you?"

Violet shook her head, still staring down. She was nursing her left arm. "No, I didn't see anything, but… I felt something. A…presence." She let out a shuddering breath. "It scared me. I thought it was coming from you."

Abel shook his head. "It was whatever I saw."

"I kept trying to tell myself that none of it happened," Violet said. "For the last couple weeks. I told myself it must have been a dream. Because how could I have seen you fly? How could I have felt…something that wasn't there? I thought I must have an illness. Or else, possessed."

Violet held her left arm close and her eyes were wide and unfocused, or focused on something far away. And Abel's heart went out to her with the force of right.

"I am sorry. I never meant…"

Violet came back to Earth. She smiled and shook her head. "It's fine."

Abel finally noticed her arm. "Is your arm hurt?"

She looked down. "Oh. Well, yeah. From when you fell on me actually. I keep thinking it will just get better, but it might be broken. It's fine."

Abel gestured to her. "Come here." Violet looked skeptically, but Abel had already ducked under the lane rope. When Abel resurfaced, Violet was already underwater, joining him in the lane between. She rose from the water and slicked the hair from her face.

"Can I have your arm?" Abel asked.

"What, are we going to dance?" Violet retorted, but she held it out anyways.

She came close to him as he took her arm into his hands. He was acutely aware of her body next to his and her breaths in his ear. His fingertips were just grazing her skin; his eyes were focused not on her arm itself, but on what his fingers were telling him. Their movement slowed and stopped; his fingers pressed gently and held, a stethoscope listening for a heartbeat.

Abel could sense Violet's eyes on him, wondering. He quickly realized that healing her would be harder than usual. Whenever he had done this before, he had been able to quickly 'see' the problem and set about healing it. His teachers said that this was enabled through the midi-chlorians which resided in all living things. But as they already knew, the midi-chlorian count among humans from earth was next to non-existent. He should have foreseen this problem, but he couldn't give up now. He stopped moving his fingers and set them still. He reached out with the Force. He prodded, then he released. He prodded again, then released. Each time, his feelings were stronger, his senses sharper. Then there it was, a hazy image in his mind's eye.

He glanced up at Violet and gave an encouraging smile. His hands now laid flat on her arm, one over the other, forming an X. His left hand was directly on her skin and he felt the tingling sensation, like a series of bugs crawling beneath, as he healed her arm. She whimpered slightly, feeling something happening to her arm. For a moment, Abel broke concentration as he felt the water around him swirl from her movement. He touched her skin once more. He knew her cells were repairing and replacing, her tendons and bones soothing, and he felt the slight warm glow of health. He let her go.

She reclaimed her arm, but she still stood near him. She moved it around a bit and touched the place on her arm. She looked up at him.

"You healed it?"

Abel nodded. She looked down at it again.

She held her arm in her hand as if it were a baby, smiling so sweetly. Their silence was filled by the gentle lapping of the waves against the wall, and Abel felt himself trespassing into an intimate scene. But then Violet looked up at him and smiled, her long hair falling in curtains like a naiad's as water dripped from her cheeks. Abel wanted to reach for her arm once more.

Just then, the sun appeared in their lane, streaking through the trees at an angle and the golden light illuminated her face. A bright whistle. The sounds of splashes mingled with the drone of cicadas, and somewhere nearby, a child screamed with delight; it was kid's swim.

Violet looked down at her arm again. She sighed, then looked at Abel not quite in the eyes. "I've decided to believe you."

But before Abel could respond, a sharp whistle blew and Abel heard a shout. He turned and found the lifeguard ordering them out: lap lanes were for lap swimming only, not for standing around. Of course, there hadn't been a lifeguard in that nearby chair during adult swim, and evidently the other lifeguard hadn't noticed them in the shadows.

As they were getting out, Violet said, "It must be hard for you, knowing all this. Being the only person on Earth like you."

Abel bit his lip. "But I suppose you would understand. It's not so different from any other alienation."

"Yeah," Violet agreed. "But you're the only one dealing with actual aliens."

Abel nodded and laughed. They made it to Abel's chair as he grabbed his towel. Violet hovered and began twisting her hair in her hand.

"If what you tell me is true, and I have decided to say that it is…" Violet gave her hair one last twist. "People won't know what to do with themselves. When this finally hits."

"I know." Abel almost laughed. "Believe me, I know." She laughed a little then looked away. He did too.

"Look," she said, looking behind her, "I have to go. But…thank you…for the arm."

"Oh," Abel replied, "you're welcome."

She bit her upper lip and nodded twice. A fleeting smile then she made her way through the grass with a doe's gait.

Abel sat back. _Well_ , he thought.

.

The following day as Abel was making plans to go to Coruscant, Violet had left a message for him asking to meet up again. Over the next couple weeks, they continued to meet up. Abel talked to her about the galaxy, showing her images on his pad. She was especially interested in the technology as a prospective engineer. She would take his pad for hours at a time to dissect the inner workings of spacecraft. She described the process of hyperspace travel as "fascinating reading" and noted to Abel the ingenious use and application of the 'stasis field.'

"I've taken classes on the subject and can't understand half of it," he replied.

They were sitting on the couch in Abel's living room. It was the first time Violet had come over to his house. Lilly was there to open the door when Violet knocked, and after they exchanged pleasantries, she turned to her brother and gave him a knowing smile. Abel stared daggers in response, which Lilly took as a cue to head upstairs, giggling all the way.

Just as Violet was going to reply to Abel's comment – probably with something snarky – the backdoor slammed shut and shook the house.

"I knew it, I _told_ him to check with the city, but ohhhh no…"

"What's up, mother?" Abel called. He stifled his laugh as he glanced at Violet. _This should be good._

"Your father," she called over the sounds of her putting away pots and pans, "is an idiot."

"Really? Never knew that." Abel, with Violet in tow, rounded into the kitchen.

"Remember? I told him to check with the city about getting those bees. I thought he did! Thought he did, nope. Nope."

She wore a tight smile as she wiped off the last pan, the smile that said if Violet wasn't there, her word choice would be a lot more colorful.

"So…what happened?"

"Hmm? Oh, just our neighbor has finally noticed, and he's threatening to call it in. He says we're not allowed to have bees here. I _told_ him."

Abel and Violet trooped outside to where Abel's dad was arguing with their neighbor from across the fence. Evidently, he had noticed a much larger concentration of bees in his garden this year than in years past, and he finally caught wind of the source. It was probably due to his family's lack of flowers. They had once had a whole garden, tended mostly by his mother, Beth, but as life caught up with her and work wore her ever down, the flowers received less and less tending until they were swallowed by the weeds and the yard fell once more into green tangles. So the bees sought their nectar elsewhere.

"Are you going to help?" Violet asked him.

Abel raised an eyebrow skeptically. "How?"

"Can't you do some kind of mind tricky thing?"

Abel stared at her, bemused. "Mind tricky thing?"

"Yeah! You want to keep the bees, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I told you, my powers are really limited here. And my mind-tricking skills aren't always reliable in the best of circumstances." Though Master Fenn had told him otherwise. _Where was she anyways?_ Abel realized suddenly that he hadn't heard from his master in weeks.

"Don't you want to show off," she said with a wink.

"Well, why don't you try," he retorted.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you can play up your innocent girl routine, with your cute little smile…"

He stopped talking as she looked away, blushing. He thought he had crossed a boundary and started to apologize, but she abruptly took off toward the feuding neighbors.

"Hello!" she said in her bright sing-song voice. Abel rolled his eyes and tromped on after her.

"Hi, there," the neighbor called back warily. "Is this your daughter?" he asked Ken. He had only moved into the house the year before.

But before Abel's dad could answer, Violet said, "Yep! I've been away at college, so we haven't met."

Abel's dad gave him a look, but Abel could only shrug.

"But my mama told me inside that you were upset about our bees."

"Well, that's right," he shifted his weight, "people can't have bees in this neighborhood. Think of all the more people that could get stung."

"But bees are endangered. That doesn't seem right either. And think of all the more flowers we could have, too. It'd be a lot prettier with more flowers."

Their neighbor glanced at their dilapidated garden, and Abel could imagine what he'd say next.

But apparently, so could Violet, for she said, "We had to get rid of our flowers because they were making my mama's allergies bad."

"I'm sorry for that," the man said gruffly. "But that still doesn't change –"

"You care for your garden, don't you? I can see that. Your yard is so pretty."

"Thank you."

"And don't bees help with that?"

"Well, maybe, but…"

Abel could tell that Violet was actually wearing the man down a little. At least Violet had calmed him down. Abel decided to give some gentle nudges.

"You do like bees, in general," Abel said, waving a hand covertly.

The man scratched his head. "I guess I _have_ always liked bees…"

"So you won't tell on us?" Violet asked, her hands clasped as if in prayer.

"Well, now, you still can't have them –"

"But you'll let us off this time," Abel stated with a wave.

"But I can let you off this time," the man finished. And with a nod, their neighbor turned and trudged back to his house.

"Dad, I think you need to get a bigger fence. With smaller holes."

His father was staring at the retreating figure astounded. "Yep. Sounds like a plan." And he dashed off to set about finding another fence before their neighbor stumbled upon these bees a second time.

"That was…interesting," Violet said as they started back for the house. "I thought you said you couldn't do it?"

"It was easier with you buttering him up," Abel answered. "You already had him backpedaling and unsure of himself. It made my job easy."

"Let's both take the credit, then," she smiled.

"Team effort," he agreed. They walked in silence for a couple seconds, until Abel said: "Really, though, thanks. The bees have become…" He couldn't find the right word.

"Yeah. I know."

"Do you want to meet them?" He gestured to the corner of the yard where they buzzed.

"Nope. I'm – ah – allergic actually. Deathly so."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

They looked at their feet, until Abel spoke. "Whelp. Inside it is, I guess." Violet laughed as they stepped inside, the delightful buzzing filling their ears.

.

As Abel spent more and more time with Violet, he thought less and less on the problems of integrating Earth and the mysterious apparition. But his realization that he hadn't contacted his master for several weeks caused him some apprehension. His initial reaction of guilt was replaced by an unsettling in the pit of his stomach. Surely his master should have contacted _him_ , and at the very least to berate him for his lack of contact. He was thinking on this very thing one afternoon.

He was once again sitting by the water with Violet having arrived by the wall after doing several laps. She looked up.

"What are you thinking about?" He shook his head as she got out and grabbed a towel. She wrapped herself in it and sat down next to him, squeezing the water out of her hair to the side.

"It's nothing." He looked across the water where several people were completely covered by their towels. The sun was burning today. She raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure it doesn't have something to do with…" she reached behind him, "this?" She waved his lightsaber.

"Put it away!" He grabbed it and put it back in his bag.

"Sorry, sorry," she raised her hands in defeat. "But you know nobody would think it's real. I mean, it doesn't even look like a lightsaber." Abel nodded at that. Like all Jedi before him, Abel had crafted his own lightsaber (with the help of Master Fenn, of course). It was mostly made of metal, but had a leather grip. It was also longer than most hilts, as most Jedi fought with a one-handed style (though a good portion adopted a two handed style which necessitated a longer hilt). Abel preferred the "hand and half," which was between the two. He was never much of a fighter, so he needed versatility on his side and the easy ability of fighting both one and two-handed. Two ears of metal stuck out at the top, sort of like a cross guard on a sword, which Abel insisted on because he was always worried his hold would slip and he would cut off his own hand. At the opposite end of the hilt was a pommel which Abel wanted for weight, for grip, and to knock somebody out if he didn't want to kill them. The brown leather grip in the middle was fused into the metal, with many rivers of metal exposed down the grip to get a stronger hold. This was his lightsaber.

Violet squirmed a little then looked to Abel. "You know…" she began, then plunged ahead. "Next week is the last week of summer break. I'm going back to school then."

"Oh!" Abel was surprised. He had forgotten about such things as going to school. "Yeah, of course."

"I don't know what your plans are (because you don't tell me anything)…if you were hoping to…"

"Actually, I'm supposed to be getting back to Coruscant."

"To Coruscant?" She knew that planet.

"The council needs to discuss what happened…you know, in the park."

"Oh," she said, thinking back. "Oh!" she said, secreting a small smile, "so the Jedi Council is discussing _me_ are they?"

"Well, sort of." They laughed a little. Abel looked over at the couple with their towels completely cover them getting up. They kept their towels on to start walking. Odd.

"Will you be coming back here?" Violet asked. "I mean, to stay?"

Abel thought how to answer and looked to his left. Violet rushed on.

"Because I thought –"

"Shh!" Abel hushed, suddenly alert. Violet was about to protest, but saw the look on his face. Abel had noticed the couple moving down the other side of the pool weren't wearing their towels, but were cloaked. And another cloaked figure was striding from the left. Just to be clear, Abel asked Violet, "Violet, do you see those figures over there in cloaks?"

She started to turn, but he held her back. "No! Nonchalantly, like you're just looking around. Smile, even."

She did as he suggested, then, smiling, reported out of the corner of her mouth, "Yes."

"O.K., we're going to leave now; right now," he said, with as much patience and calm as he could muster. He didn't know if there was anything sinister, but it certainly wasn't natural to be completely covered up in the 90 degree day.

Thankfully, Violet didn't protest, but gathered up her things. She was still laughing, as if they were having a grand ol' time, but her smile was clearly forced.

They began walking to the exit, passing the playing children and their parents who were completely unaware of their flight. They rounded the corner to the exit before the couple of cloaked figures, while the third was still thirty or so yards behind.

Abel's Jedi senses were all firing. He knew these figures meant to do harm. Could they be related to the Sith figure he saw before? But Violet could see them this time.

They entered the gateway to take them to the parking lot. To enter and exit the pool, you had to go inside a small building. The set of doors nearest the parking lot were opaque. As they entered, Abel said to Violet, "Once we're out of the building, we'll run to the car. They won't be able to see us for a few seconds then." She nodded.

They were through the doors…

And they started sprinting.

"To my car!" Abel yelled, for Violet had driven there separately. She kept on his tail as they dashed to his car.

They had almost reached the car when they heard shouts behind them. The cloaked figures were pulling out blasters. They started firing and they ducked behind another car. Abel summoned the power of the Force, and standing up, hurled a push at the shooters. They barely moved, though it was enough to knock off their hoods. Abel saw a humanoid head; it was actually rather like a human's, but completely hairless, without even eyebrows. The face was gaunt, almost skull-like, and the eye sockets were heavily sunken in. The nose was especially pronounced, large and bulbous.

Still, even with the weaker Force-push, the distraction was enough to stop their firing. As Abel slid into the driver's seat, Violet skirted around the edge of the car. She stumbled a little, but was able to wrench the passenger door open and fling herself in.

"Drive! Drive!" She shouted, but Abel was already putting it in gear. The car roared and skidded as he slammed on the gas, the revving punctuated by his rapid breathing and the twangs of the blasters. He twirled the steering wheel and they were off.

.

"What," began Violet, "was that about?"

"In all honesty, I really don't know." They had just taken the exit onto the highway. After their immediate escape, they saw a starship touch down behind them, presumably to pick up the cloaked figures. _Well, that about confirms that_. It looked to Abel like a rather banged up freighter. So, probably not a group of Sith assassins. Pirates? But what would they be doing here, going after a Jedi? And speaking of that, how would they know where to find him?

Violet, scratching her shoulder, echoed his thoughts. "I assume they were after you. But how could they have found you? Is there a way to do a planet wide…search?...sense?...of a Jedi?" Abel shook his head.

"Not that I know of." Abel was also preoccupied with something else. Why had his Force-push been so weak? Was Earth still so resistant to the Force? And come to think of it, why hadn't he sensed their intentions earlier? He always reached out with the Force to connect with others around him. He remembered several times where he did just that at the pool. Was he sick? Did these people have some sort of Force-repelling power?

He exited the highway and soon they were chugging along a forested road. He had been lucky to find this place a few years ago. You couldn't just set up anywhere. Thinking about it reminded him again of Master Fenn, but he had to set his thoughts aside as they arrived at their destination. To Violet, it looked just like any old clearing in the woods.

"O…K?" She said as they stepped out. "Is this where you finally murder me with your psychopathic tendencies?" Abel barely managed a sniff-laugh.

"C'mon." And he started to a small ridge of rocks to the right. She hurried to catch up. "I'm sorry," he started to say, "I can't really think of any alternative. They saw you with me and I'm just not entirely sure…well, I'll leave it to the council to figure out, but for the meantime…"

"What are you talking about?" Violet was seriously confused by this point as Abel started climbing over a rock.

"I just feel that I can't leave you here," he said. He then pulled a door out of midair. Or so it seemed to Violet. Really, he pulled it out of the rock. He held the door open for her and descended a set of stairs. It was pitch dark and Violet couldn't see anything, but the air shuddered, as if she was in a large cavern.

"What do you mean, leave me here? Are you taking me somewhere." She heard a click as Abel flicked the lights on.

Gleaming before her was a great starship.

"Yes," Abel answered. "Up."

.

"Zeefor! Wake up!" Violet heard a twittering noise to her right. An R2-D2-like droid came puttering past. "Hurry up, we've got to get it ready asap. Let's go, Violet," he yelled to her. She ran over to the entrance. She didn't have to duck around the broad wing as she made her way to the front where a ramp was awaiting her.

She walked up the ramp into a small cargo hold that was barely tall enough for her to stand. She saw Abel ascending a ladder into a trapdoor in the ceiling and made to follow.

"I'll give you the grand tour later after we escape," Abel said as they emerged into a small kitchen/sitting room. It was barely fifteen feet by fifteen feet, and again, the ceiling was only a little taller than Abel's head. He made for a ladder at the back of the room and they both climbed up.

Here was the cockpit. A single built-in chair was positioned in front of the controls and Abel got right to it, powering up the ship. The headspace was so small that even Violet had to crouch, and there was barely enough room for her to stand.

"Are you in?" Abel asked. She said yes, then the hole they had climbed through closed up. There's _some_ extra room. "Grab one of those seats and strap in," Abel said, motioning to one of the side walls. Violet found that a couple seats flipped out of the wall and did as he said. She looked out the window and saw that the top of the cockpit was all window: a 360 degree view. The window extended in the front and she could look down the length of the ship. She heard a chirping coming through an intercom.

"All right," Abel yelled. "Get on board, quick!" Two affirmative chirps. He turned back to Violet. "Apparently, the enemy craft is circling this area so it's probably going to be a bumpy ride." He paused, trying to think of words. "Again, I'm so sorry –"

"It's fine!" Violet sang, her voice quivering. "You can apologize later, just fly us out!" Abel looked sheepish.

"Right," turning back to the controls. "Opening doors."

Light streamed in as what had looked on the outside like a ridge of rocks slid down to reveal a humming spaceship.

"Zeefor, you in?" Affirmative chirp. "All right, let's go."

He flicked a switch, pressed a pedal, and they shot out of the cave and into the sky.

.

The enormous acceleration momentarily stunned Violet, but Abel, who presumably had done this many times, looked unaffected. The ship climbed quickly skyward as Abel focused on a screen in front of him. A flip of a switch and Violet saw all kinds of lines appear on the window-roof. Near her head, she saw a red dot.

"Enemy vessel east south-east," Abel said, presumably to the droid. He looked over to the red dot and out the window. "They've seen us, they've angled this way…Zeefor, get up here!"

A couple seconds later, the hole opened again and the little droid popped out. "Good, start prepping our coordinates to Coruscant." A couple beeps. "Yes, obviously not directly there, you know how, dopy droid." Abel smiled as it emitted a series of low beeps. "Yeah, yeah, we'll discuss that later, for now, please, the hyperdrive?" Zeefor got to work at computer nearby.

Sudden bursts of red filled the sky, and Abel yanked the ship to the left. Violet's stomach lurched as the ship seemed to turn on a dime. Abel looked back to make sure Violet was O.K. and sniffed at the look on her face.

"Packs a punch, doesn't it?"

"You don't say," she said sardonically.

Abel continued a series of hard turns, but the freighter stayed on their tail.

"Can't you shoot back?" called Violet, after yet again another violent twist.

"Well," Abel groaned, flicking a few buttons to adjust the shields, "I _can_ but the driver-operated lasers are rather weak. Besides," more shots as he spun around. They were over the ocean by this point. "We should be almost ready to make the jump." Zeefor twittered. "See, we're ready." More beeps. "Of course…" Abel sighed.

"Of course what?" Violet said, worried.

"We're facing the wrong direction." Violet slumped. "No matter." Violet eyed the back of Abel's head skeptically. He mumbled something to her.

"What?"

"I said, hang on to the handles!"

"What handles?!"

"The, the," Abel was waving his hand behind him, trying to concentrate on flying, "the ones next to your arms." She looked around and found them.

And not a moment too soon, because the ship shot up, up and around. It flipped in a matter of seconds, then gracefully spun sideways and right side up.

They zipped right past the freighter.

Violet imagined their dumbstruck faces, their mouths dropped into a comical "oh."

"Zeefor, punch it!"

The sunlit sky stretched like taffy as the world seemed to bend around her. Then suddenly black. They had lost their attackers in hyperspace.


	16. Chapter 16: The Ecumenopolis

A/N

New Word:

(Basic speech)

Onassium – a word in Basic

.

New Concept:

Z4 model

Meeting habits of the Jedi Council

Senmarket

.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The Ecumenopolis**

 **.**

Once they were safely in lightspeed, Abel was able to relax. Or at least exhale. He opened the floor portal, and, motioning for Violet to follow, climbed down into the communal area. He slumped down on a couch and Violet floated to a chair. She shivered.

"Yeah," Abel said, noticing. "Sorry. If it makes you feel better, I didn't have any doubts we'd get out of that. Our armor can hold off one ship to get us off to hyperspace." He said it with a small laugh, but she appreciated the kindness intended. In fact, Abel had been anything but sure, but he thought a small show of confidence could inspire some in Violet. It seemed to work as Violet changed the subject.

"No, I'm fine. How long should it take to get there?" Abel couldn't help but laugh at the change. Violet didn't seem worried, but she noticed his laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing," Abel said, shaking his head. "You're adjusting pretty quick, is all." She smirked.

"What, because I'm small, and shy, and a _girl_ that I –"

"No, no," Abel said, backpedaling. "I know some small, shy girls, especially Jedi ones, and they'd do a better job kicking my a–"

"O.K., O.K.," Violet said, less because she was convinced, and more to shut him up. "So, when are we getting there?"

"Geez," Abel drawled, "not five minutes in and the 'are-we-there-yet's start." He saw color rushing to her cheeks and her eyes narrowing and Abel realized he probably shouldn't be joking too much. "In this ship, probably a day and a half or so. Though…Zeefor, can you come here please?"

The droid came sliding in moments later. Violet stared at it. "Wow, it really is an R2 droid," she breathed. The droid swiveled to face her and seemed to stare at her through its big black dot (eye?).

"Hmm…I think you've offended him."

"Really?" she said, genuinely concerned.

"Yes, well, R2 refers to the model, while 'astromech' would be the term for his whole type. And since he's a Z4 model – Z4-D1, to be exact – it's kind of an insult akin to calling him 'mentally challenged' or 'ugly' and 'an idiot.'" Zeefor whizzed around and jabbered at Abel. "I didn't _say_ you were those things, I said _she implied_ those things. As you can see," Abel said, turning back to Violet, "these droids are very prone to having feelings, or something like it. That's why most people abandoned these models for more updated types decades ago. The more complicated the droids became, the more they seemed to mimic sentient creatures; so they doubled down on their efforts to eradicate those aspects in the newer models."

"How do you know Zeefor's a 'he.'"

"They will often adopt personalities like their owners, but also," Abel added, "if you knew him, you would agree."

"So that's where he gets his sarcasm from." Violet nodded sagely.

"Ha ha. It's especially prevalent with this one because Odo, a…friend of mine from initiate training fixed up several astromechs for us with some special modifications. So I rechristened the old Z3 model Z4, which became his name."

"Well that was nice of him. Your friend, I mean."

"Yeah…" Abel trailed upward, "he's always excited for a new project. He just sort of nods and gets to work. Actually, he designed and built this ship. Well, I did contribute some of my ideas as well."

"It seems impressive."

"You don't know the half of it! The leaf-like design is superb for making tight turns in the air – of course, there's no air in space, and we have twice as many turning thrusters as most small ships – then it has incredible acceleration from a nuclear reaction – don't worry, it's safe – but then that got me thinking, and Odo did some tests, and it can do this thing were it does these little hyperspace bursts…" Abel trailed off, realizing he was rambling, but Violet looked rather interested. "Sorry."

"No, it all actually sounds pretty interesting," she said delicately. "I just don't know enough to know what you're talking about. Does it have a name?"

"Leaf Storm."

Violet guffawed. "Sorry," she said immediately, "It's just kind of…"

"Stupid?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well," Abel said diplomatically, "its design was based on a leaf, to swerve and bank, and it's a storm both around an enemy, spinning around it, but also a storm inside with its powerful punch, and it's also a reference to…never mind, that's just its name. I mean, like, what's Millennium Falcon anyways…"

"A falcon is a bird of prey that flies and millennium sounds cool."

"That's basically like mine!" Abel was indignant.

"Aaanyways…" Violet said, wrenching back the conversation. "How long 'til Coruscant?" Abel had completely forgotten.

"Oh yeah. Zeefor, what's our ETA?" He beeped and his displayed a read-out. "Well, it looks like about a little over two days, but we would be arriving early in the morning local time. Let's aim for a couple hours later, Zeefor, ease the hyperdrive a little…" He patted the droid on its head as it zoomed away. "Of course that means…" He did a little mental math. "We'll be arriving in the middle of the night our time, so we should try to start adjusting to minimize jet lag. So that would mean trying to go to sleep soon." It was barely past eight o'clock on Earth.

He brought her through the narrow hall at the opposite end from the ladder to the cockpit. First door on the right was the bathroom, complete with shower, sink and toilet, and the first door on the left was a bedroom with several bunked beds in all sorts of configurations.

"Why so many beds?" Violet asked.

"Leaf Storm is sort of a hybrid ship," Abel explained. "It is smaller than a one pilot fighter with just a cockpit, but smaller than most ships next size up. Generally, I fly solo, but on the off-hand chance several people need to pile in, there are at least _some_ beds, even if they are uncomfortable."

The next door on the right had two beds with a bunch of hi-tech equipment around it. "For medical purposes," Abel explained. Violet also noticed that the ceiling was even lower in this room than in the previous ones. "It's because the ship narrows at the front and back. It's why the room with all the beds is closer to the communal area. Also, see how the ceiling slopes down to the end of the room? It's because of the curvature of the wings."

The opposite door on the left had a single bed, along with a desk, chair and closet. Some personal items dotted the room, like pictures on the desk and a fuzzy blanket.

"This is where I usually sleep, but you can take it." Violet started to protest, but Abel insisted. "It's the comfiest." He showed her where extra pajamas and toothbrushes were, along with the clothes cleaner ("slip them in and they come out clean and freshly pressed in a couple minutes").

A little while later, Violet was snug in her bed, trying to sleep. She thought there was no way she'd be able to after the day she had and with it being so early. But the adrenaline of the chase had gradually given way to exhaustion. Her eyes slowly closed and her consciousness wavered as the gentle beeps and whirring of the supersonic ship lulled her off to sleep.

.

They arrived at Coruscant at dawn. The rest of the trip had been uneventful. Abel tried to prepare Violet for the world awaiting her, even trying to impart some Basic, but he didn't think it would be satisfactory, really. Generally, Violet was quite placid during the trip. But whenever Abel let his apprehension show, hers seemed to grow as well, though she tried to hide it with false smiles and cheery responses. She befriended Zeefor, even going so far to call him 'cute.' Really, Abel agreed, but he wouldn't say it to Zeefor's face. Or antenna. He'd think Abel was patronizing him.

Zeefor had to wake Abel up to prepare for arrival. Yawning, he slouched into the pilot's seat and had Zeefor wake up Violet, as well. She'd probably want to see.

She arrived in the cockpit just as they were set to enter back into realspace. Looking at the computer, he read off, "Three, two, one…"

And they slid into realspace as smoothly as if nothing had changed. Coruscant loomed before them, a dark planet speckled with millions of lights. As they cruised in and gave the necessary credentials, the sun was just peaking beyond the planet, its rays streaking through. They descended through the atmosphere and emerged into the bronze world.

Generally, the Jedi Council did not hold session. Unlike in the days of the Old Republic, the Council members did not maintain a constant presence, but instead went about individual or collaborative business. They generally met fortnightly, though not with any regularity, and they were usually to be found on Ossus. But they also met on Coruscant to coordinate with Union leaders and to discuss intergalactic issues.

Abel eased the Leaf onto one of the platforms for the new Jedi Temple at Coruscant. Violet noticed the difference at once.

"Well there's one thing the movies got wrong," she said, pointing to the temple.

"Actually, they were pretty accurate on their depiction of the original temple." An eyebrow rose as she looked at him. "The original one was destroyed, and this one was built, oh, about a hundred years ago." She looked at the small, plain building. It was more reminiscent of a humble monastery than a grand temple. She thought it might belong on some half-forgotten world, but on Coruscant? "In keeping with the new way, they thought a more modest temple would suffice. Jedi don't train here like they used to, so there's no reason for a big temple; and it sends a better message: size matters not," he said with a wink. Her eyebrows raised.

"Is that supposed to mean something?"

"It's from the – whatever, Yoda says it – never mind… Anyways," he continued, "it says that Jedi can live simply; that we don't need to take in order to give."

"Classic monk stuff?"

"Exactly." They sat staring at the temple. They kept sitting. Violet shifted.

"We should probably go inside."

"Yep."

She waited.

"Are you…scared?"

Abel sighed.

"No, I've been here before, but…I haven't heard from my Master Fenn."

"Oh, that's right."

"But…yes, let's go." He triggered the ramp to open down below and they descended down the hatch. Violet patted Zeefor's head as she left.

They met with the platform attendant and he checked them in, registering their information. After confirming Abel's identity, he allowed them through with minimal security check.

"Beats airplane security," Abel noted lamely. Violet merely smiled politely.

They strolled through the manicured lawn filled with all kinds of flowers. A shriveled-looking alien was attending to some of them and it seemed to Violet that he was whispering to them. They hopped up the well-worn sandstone steps and passed through the gate. They emerged into the light of a large circular courtyard about the size of a baseball diamond. Violet had expected to see contemplative Jedi meditating, or perhaps more of the pretty garden out front.

Instead, she saw people of all sizes and species, some standing in lines waiting to be attended and others sitting down on benches or on the grass. And, to put it nicely, they _definitely_ weren't Jedi.

"They're citizens of Coruscant," Abel said, glancing at her eye line. "Or not even necessarily that. As I said, this temple isn't a training temple; instead, the Jedi keep it as a clinic to administer to the needs of the people. There are only so many Jedi and this is but one small temple, but anything they can do to help, they do, or try to."

"Do or do not, there is no try." Abel looked at Violet's face; it was a mask. Then her mouth curved up and she raised an eyebrow. They snorted.

They made their way through the crowds and passed through an archway. Ascending a set of stairs, they turned and walked along a corridor, its left side lined with open arches looking down on the courtyard below. They passed over an open-air bridge and continued through a series of twists and doors. Violet didn't understand why everything had to be so confusing.

"All right, this is it." As far as Violet could see, it was an ordinary door, not one she would have picked to lead into a grand council. Abel approached the doorkeeper.

"Aiya, Setta Ark. Uwe mo eimin en? Levenbro kei ista?" Abel had effortlessly switched into a foreign language and Violet was momentarily too stunned to notice the doorkeeper. But then she realized that he was in fact a giant chicken. Well, no, because he had four arms, with human-like hands. But then she looked at his face and saw, quite clearly, that he was kind.

He broke off talking with Abel and looked down at her. He said something. He was asking her a question.

"This is Master Ark Bed'bod," Abel told her. "He's asking if you are well and if he can get you anything." Violet turned to the Jedi master and smiled. Master Ark smiled even more.

"N-no, I'm fine." She looked to Abel meaningfully and he relayed the message. The Jedi master started to laugh, then seemed to remember something and began to dig around in a pouch at his side. Violet stifled a small laugh as she saw another of his arms scratching his belly, and another tapping its fingers.

Master Bed'bod uttered a small "ah" then drew something out and held his hand out to Violet. It contained a lumpy clump of fabric. Violet looked quizzically at Abel who was also frowning. He shrugged, then asked the master.

In response, he held it in two hands and gestured to Violet's head. Realizing what he intended, she bowed her head slightly. It was quite large and fell over most of her face. It was a hat.

Master Bed'bod smiled and started chirping away at Violet. Abel translated for him.

"He says that it is a tradition among his community of Besalisks. Their planet of Ojom is cold, so they will often give warm clothes as a greeting. He apparently carries several spare hats with him for such occasions, and this is the smallest one…" The master's eye twinkled and he shrugged. "He…he says that he thinks you could use something to protect you from the cold." But before they could ask anymore, Master Bed'bod's comm pinged. He gestured to the plain door, which opened of its own accord, and before she could prepare, Violet was inside the council chamber.

.

This room was different; in response, Violet immediately removed her hat. The walls and floor were still made of wood, but it was finely polished and light brown. The ceiling reached far above their heads and the windows flew graceful and high, filtering the sunlight evenly across the room. The room was perfectly circular, holding the round table at which sat twenty or so Jedi in brown robes. Long columns were interspersed between the windows, towering as if they were Jedi seated at the table, too. Abel moved to sit at the place in front of them and Violet followed. Violet brought her hat to her chest. It was slightly chilly.

She sat still as Abel started to explain the situation to whom she figured was the head Jedi, who asked questions back. He was a man; he had light skin and looked to be around fifty with long, dark hair, a beard, and a little grey peppered through. He had both a warmness and a coldness about him; an ease and an intensity. He smiled easily and flipped through his desk simply, but he was perched on his seat as if ready to strike, and his questions came confidently and concisely; she didn't have to understand the language to observe that.

Violet started observing the other Jedi around the room. On both sides of the human man were what Violet thought a cat and a dog – or close enough. The "cat" on his left had a short elephant-like snout and it was slumped back in the chair, though with eyes fully attentive. The short "dog" with the long ears and mane was the opposite; it was leaning forward, but its eyes were unfocused. There was another Jedi with two long white and blue horns, one with three stalked eyes, a human female… And there were several others who were not seated at the table, but behind the masters. Secretaries? Aids? Then there were the spots where no one was sitting.

Violet looked back at Abel, for he had suddenly become agitated. One of those "aids" behind the human male was speaking to him. She looked human enough except for the conehead. She leaned forward, her eyes like pincers boring into Abel, and asked another question. Abel's face grew red and he closed his eyes. Violet had thought she saw a trace of a tear, but perhaps it was the light, for when he opened them up again, they were set. He answered slowly. The girl asked another question, this time with a polite smile. But Violet saw that her eyes were just the same as before. Violet heard Abel say "I didn't!..." before he sighed and changed back into Basic.

It was really starting to bug Violet that she couldn't understand what was going on. After all, she was the one who had been dragged here, right? As Abel finished his last explanation, the girl relaxed back into her chair with a pleasant smile and looked expectantly at the human male. But Violet could see the ghost of a smile behind the girl's perfect façade, and she knew exactly what it meant, because she had seen it before: it was the "I just proved I'm right and you're wrong, but now I'm going to act all gracious" face. Violet didn't even know her, but she didn't like her.

The aid next to her had started speaking to Abel; he looked like a quintessential alien…oh wait, pretty sure he was one of those cantina band guys. Except he didn't look jolly; quite the opposite, he looked almost dull, but he continued on with his questions. See, now this was annoying Violet, too; why were these little "aid" people asking questions, while Jedi at the table like that "cat" person stayed silent?

Violet sank lower in her chair and folded her arms. That human's beard was really annoying her; it was all pointy at the end, what a –

She heard the scraping of chairs and realized that Jedi were getting up. The meeting was over.

She turned to Abel to ask what had happened, but he just looked tired. She could see a couple beads of sweat running down past his ears. She asked tentatively, "So…what happened?"

He blinked a couple times, looking blankly at her. Then he looked bewildered, opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again: "Did they not give you a translator?" She shrugged her shoulders and make a smacked her lips. "Oh, I'm sorry, they were supposed to…Well, basically what happened is that they will look further into what happened, but they don't really know anything yet, and apparently my master Ma Fenn was away on a mission somewhere and has been out of contact and they will consider sending someone after her. And I'm also supposed to take you back home and ensure that you don't, as they say, 'turn a panic.'"

Violet sighed. "Great, so, I'm not even allowed to listen, let alone have a say, as they decide all kinds of things that I have to do."

"Well," Abel had the decency to look sorry, "they are the Jedi council, they decide lots of –"

"But _I'm_ not a Jedi, nor am I even a citizen of this Galactic Republic – or whatever it is – yet…" She sneered. Abel didn't seem to know what to do.

"Look, I know all that's true, but they are _my_ superiors and they've told me to take you back." He was whispering as the stragglers from the meeting filed out.

"Do we have to leave immediately?"

"No, of course not, we can sleep first."

"Or…how about we leave the day _after_ tomorrow and we can tour a little of the city?"

Abel looked around and squinted.

"Oh, come on, you're still taking me back, just with…a little detour.

He looked at her and she did her best puppy dog eyes. He shrugged an affirmative and that was that.

.

Violet was quiet on the train ride to the central station. She was often quiet, as Abel knew, but she was turned away from him, watching the blackness of the underground go by outside the window. She seemed to be brooding. She caught him looking at her and gave a half-hearted smile.

Sunlight flooded the compartment as they got their first great view of the never-ending city of Coruscant. Skyscraper after skyscraper continued off into the silver horizon and thousands of speeders, pleasure cruisers and light starships crisscrossed their way between them. The city shone in the morning sun. Abel pointed at the rotund senate building off in the distance, which sat like a great mushroom. Violet's mouth became slightly unhinged. New York City was like a toy set. Movies were flat. But here, she could feel the streaming of the train, could make out each detailed window, alley, and lamp.

The train slid to a stop at their station, and they made their way through the crowd and out onto the platform. _In a way_ , Violet thought, _it's not so different from a great city back home._ Bodies strode, slithered and hopped past with two eyes, four eyes, no eyes, one leg, three arms, red, yellow, blue skin, transparent skin, talking, screeching or humming as they went. They walked towards the yawning tunnel and Violet smelled the exhaust fumes of trains and speeders, the rank sweet stench of sweat and perfumes, the spicy food that was being slurped by the alien next to her… Her feet made a crisp clip-clop on the marble floor browned by the constant traffic.

At the other end of the tunnel, they took an elevator and shot down from the station. The back half of the elevator was one window facing the city. Abel laughed as he watched Violet watch the city hum.

"What are you laughing at?" she drawled.

"You, obviously."

"Have you gotten used to it already?" She pressed her nose to the glass. "I don't think I could ever get used to it." She watched two trains pass by each other on tracks suspended between two buildings as ships streamed above and below.

"Eh," Abel shrugged, "I think anyone would get used to heaven or hell if they'd been there long enough…" Violet raised an eyebrow.

They finally hit the ground, though with Coruscant "ground level" was a bit of a nebulous designation at points; it continued as far down as it was built up. As soon as they got out of the lift, Violet took out her phone and took a picture.

"Violet, we went over this," Abel said, taking her phone. "You can't take pictures."

"Urgh, that's so…" – she wrestled back control of her phone – "stupid. Obviously I would delete them from my phone and put them somewhere where no one would find them."

"Come on, you know how risky that is." She said nothing, but forced her phone back into her pocket with a huff.

As they walked along the busy street, Violet grew silent again. After a few steps, he could tell something was up.

"Are you O.K.?"

She nodded quickly, but then: "You know, Abel, I didn't appreciate that." Abel pursed his lips and faltered a bit in his step. He didn't really know how to answer that.

"I'm sorry. I told you though –"

"No, it's how you did it, treating me like I'm a misbehaving child."

"I wasn't! I was just reminding you…"

"Or at that council meeting. Everyone was just discussing things, including me, you were discussing me, and I wasn't even allowed to hear –"

"I told you," Abel responded wearily, "I had thought they would give you the translation."

"But you didn't even notice until the end, only when I pointed it out to you," Violet responded coolly.

"So…"

" _So_ , the meeting was held with no input from me, not even a courtesy question or even an apology or concerned word."

"If you want an apology –"

"I don't want an apology." Violet spoke softly, but sternly, with a little tremor. "I want…" She shook her head. "If you don't know what's wrong, then you won't get it. Just…you do know that just because you are a Jedi, because you were the only one from Earth so far chosen to be a Jedi, it doesn't mean you get to dictate the fate of the whole world. You…you aren't so special that you can decide any one person's fate without their consent. Your whole council, your whole order doesn't have the jurisdiction, the benediction, to determine my, or any one other Earthling's right to know. And be known."

The clip clop along the street plodded along in Abel's ears. The dull murmur of a thousand voices, the beeps and squeaks. They walked in silence, but for their drumming footsteps.

Abel thought of telling her of the Jedi Order's technical jurisdiction over the galaxy, but he didn't think that would go over very well, so he kept quiet. But he did admire what she said, and thought on it.

As they walked along, Abel started feeling grumpy. He could have been sightseeing in America: trudging along a dirty street, tired from a red eye, souring a little on the comp–

"Where are we going, exactly," Violet asked, like nothing had been said.

"There are, of course, too many things to see in Coruscant in just one day, so I thought we'd restrict ourselves to the city center here."

"Seems appropriate," she nodded.

They started the day by climbing (well, more like riding the elevator) up the tallest building on Coruscant, which was over six miles high. Violet was especially excited to go to the Onassium, a museum dedicated to science and innovations. Abel watched Violet as she bent over a prototype repulsorlift. She unconnected and reconnected wires, magnets and screws; Abel liked the way her hand brushed her hair behind her ears to her neck as her eyes narrowed in concentration. He grimaced and looked to where a group of school children were crowded around a diagram of a protocol droid.

"It really does feel like we're in Canada or something," Violet said as they strolled through the forest of pine trees. One of the wings of the Onassium was an arboretum. "I wouldn't have thought other planets would have such similar trees."

"Of course, they're not so similar if you get up close," Abel responded. Violet left the pathway and went to one of the low-hanging branches. She gently fingered the needles and touched the branch.

"True, it feels more like rubber. And the needles are like felt."

"And look at the way the branches come out of the tree," Abel said, pointing. Violet saw that they came out at a geometric pattern.

"Strange. Who would have thought nature would create perfection naturally?"

"Well," Abel answered, "I don't know if geometric symmetry means it's perfection."

"Hey! No touching the trees!" A guard was yelling at them. Violet yelped and quickly pranced back to the path. Even if she couldn't understand the language, she could understand the intent.

They continued the path between the rubber-like trees under the crystal dome. The air was copious, a lot like Tython, Abel thought, but without the sweetness or the hum of life. Even with its efforts to plant trees along boulevards or to craft garden-topped roofs, there would have been far too little oxygen on Coruscant to survive, so they had long ago engineered a synthetic atmosphere. It served its purpose, but Abel often felt like Coruscant was one big room with an air conditioning; there was plenty of fresh air, but something about it felt…stale. It was recycled air, breathed by people then turned back into air by machines, then breathed by people again for ever and ever. Yes, it was new air, but somehow it felt as if at its core it was a saggy, soggy, run-down, bloated, tired old rag of a thing, and the label of "new" that it wore somehow made it all the more sour.

"It's so peaceful here," Violet observed. "It's amazing how they can grow so well…how it can smell so fresh and free."

"Yes. It is."

After leaving the Onassium, they walked by the floating ponds, dined on a flying restaurant and listened to an Ithorian musical group. They then made their way to the central Coruscanti market.

"Why is the market so big, or why is there one at all, when there's such wealth?" Violet asked, munching on a fruit like an apple. "I mean, in big cities in America most markets are more for show, aren't they?"

"It's definitely not for show here," Abel responded soberly. Throngs of creatures moved around them, jostling for food, clothing and accessories. Many were smartly dressed in slightly worn robes or marked up suits, but many wore baggy pants and ripped shirts. "You saw the Jedi Temple, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but I didn't think…I mean, in the middle of the city…"

"Oh, the Senate and other authorities have tried in the past to shut down the market, or move it underground or to the outskirts. They don't like to see it. Did you think the rich behaved any different here than on Earth?"

"That's not what I meant," said Violet, blushing. "I just would have thought that the poor would have… I thought it would be to scale, you know? With all these amenities they have here, they would be up a couple steps from the poor in Earth, kind of like how the poor in America are up steps from poor in…other countries."

"Nothing is still nothing wherever it is," Abel spat. "The people in this market…they generally live down below, underground, but it is a dangerous place to exchange and buy, so they come up here where they at least have the watchful eye of the police to guard them." Abel watched two such officers walk past, peering through the stalls at the owners who eyed them cautiously. One officer stopped to look at a piece of fabric, and said something to his buddy. He chuckled and tossed back the fabric, which crumpled like a dead leaf on the table. The owner, a Gotal, waited until the officers left then ran around the counter, picking up the fabric, folding it neatly and laid it like a flower back into place, gently smoothing it. Abel angled for the stall.

He smiled encouragingly at the owner, and her mouth widened graciously. "Come here, come here. Lovely silks here for the young girl. Purple, maybe…" She bustled around, picking up fabrics and shoving them at Violet. "Only 23 credits for this one, I mark it down because it goes so well with your eyes…" Abel made a gesture of 'no, thanks,' but continued looking.

Abel whispered to Violet, "She was asking for the equivalent of around 40 bucks for her scarf." Violet eyed him and shook her head.

 _But still_ , Abel thought, _maybe I could do her a good turn_. The standkeeper seemed so pitiful to him.

As Violet reached out to pick up a scarf, Abel prodded it with his mind and it sailed toward Violet's outstretched hand.

"Ah!" she exclaimed. "I'm a Jedi now!" And she laughed. When Abel looked at the Gotal, though, he noticed a smirk across her face. She looked at him.

"So, you are Jedi then? Think you could get me a spot at your temple?" She laughed harshly.

"Sorry?" Abel said, not understanding.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you are," the Gotal said, nodding. "Sorry, that's what they always tell me. 'No room today, come back tomorrow!' yes, yes." Abel was suddenly moved.

"Look, if you want, I could always get you in, what's your –"

"Hey," she said, not even hearing his offer, "if I wanted your help I would have asked for it, yes I would. We don't need any Jedi here in Senmarket, no, no."

Abel was bewildered. "I'm sure I could tell the Jedi at the Temple –"

"I don't want your temple," she said, waving them away. "Keep it. I want to sell my scarfs in peace, thank you. If you want a scarf, we can start at 25 credits." Abel sniffed at such an outrageous amount.

"I don't have that much, but if you want, I have a spare two credits…"

The Gotal stared at him. She didn't reach out her hand. She stared at him. Abel quickly smiled and left, pulling Violet along.

As they walked back to the central station, he began to feel a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. The Force was egging him on. He felt out of place here. He could feel the boring of thousands of eyes, like one sentient creature which heard the disturbances of an interloper in its hovel. He tried to reach out to tame the Force, to calm himself, but it all felt wrong. He felt wrong, somehow. The Force or maybe he himself was trying to tell him something, but he didn't have the vocabulary to understand it. He felt very small. Cities will usually do that, especially one such as big as Coruscant, but it was a different kind of small. It nagged him.


	17. Chapter 17: Slipping Through

A/N

New Word:

.

New Concept:

Hyperdrive kick start

.

Chapter 4: Slipping Through

.

Abel stared once more at the city columns caught in the brilliant dawning light as dock workers and astromechs prepared Leaf Storm for its return to Earth.

"Everything looks about set," said a tall man dressed in the blue suit of a Union Fleet officer.

"Captain Jack Aurallis," he said, extending his hand.

"Glad to meet you. I'm Abel." They shook hands. The captain's was smoother than Abel had thought it would be, but the grip was still tough.

"You do know I know how to fly my own ship," Abel offered, but not unkindly. Apparently upon hearing about the events on Earth, the Union Assembly decided to get involved. They had sent ships ahead to make sure the coast was clear (even though the Jedi had already done this), and were adding to more X-wings to accompany Abel and Violet on their voyage home. Additionally, they mandated that one of their own be aboard the Leaf Storm. But Abel wasn't impressed; he reasoned that their real reason was to get some of their own to inspect this new planet. The colonization and integration process had begun, and Abel would have to live with it.

"Yes, yes," Jack said, scratching his chin, "but it's what I've been instructed to do." Abel sighed and nodded. The captain started off towards the ramp as the maintenance crew finished up their work. Abel looked around him. The morning mist still blanketed the ground. He had that strange feeling of forgetting something. But no, there was nothing here he needed. He walked on.

Abel touched the pad and entered the room to find Violet sitting on her bed, holding her knees in her arms. He had just finished losing to Captain Aurallis at Dejarik for the third time in a row. There was little else to do for the next two days.

Violet was huddled and absentmindedly stroking her left leg, staring off into the corner of her room. Abel leaned slightly against the door frame.

"Are you O.K.?" Abel eyebrows were furrowed as he gazed at Violet's posture. She drew a shuttering breath.

"Oh…I suppose." She tilted her head as her dark curtain of hair fell to the side. Abel hovered, not sure of how exactly to either comfort or disengage.

"Do you want to sit?" Violet asked, lifting up her eyes to look at him for the first time, with one eyebrow raised.

"Sure."

He perched on the edge of the bed. Abel looked to where Violet was staring, but there was nothing there but the gray wall. Only her reading light was on, casting a hazy burned yellow light across the room. Violet sighed.

"I keep trying to make sense of what this all means and I keep failing."

"It is a lot to take in."

"I don't mean," she waved her hand around, "what I've seen. I mean, why was I brought here and shown the truth? Why were you?"

"Ah, now you're getting at the age-old questions," he said with a smile. She tried to smile, but couldn't seem to find it in her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and parted her lips.

"I've been thinking about your plans to bring Earth in the Union…and I don't think you should."

The hum of the ship.

Abel looked at her.

"You would want to forget all the amazing things you've seen? You can't just ignore the fact that the world is bigger than you knew." Violet tilted her head and looked up to the ceiling, almost imploring.

"And you can't pretend that it's a fantasy to escape to; some kind of paradise."

"I don't." Abel was taken aback. "I never said it was, but it's here." Violet was struggling to find words.

"Have you ever stopped to think about what it means that there are other humans in the galaxy? How is that possible? Are they from Earth? Are we? I keep thinking about my home; my parents, my dog, the plants in my backyard…it doesn't seem real anymore. Like…is it even mine? Do I have a right to it, to love it? Everything we have learned about, everything we have worked for, fought for, worshiped…died for; it makes it all meaningless, in a way."

"No. I don't believe that," said Abel earnestly. He had turned to face Violet as she looked the other way. "We just have to adjust, to broaden our scope."

"I don't believe that ignorance is bliss. But a lot of people will be hurt by this; many will likely die."

Her eyes yawned wide like crystal balls and the light of a thousand stars were in them.

"Maybe in another life," Abel began, "where mankind was perfect and kind; maybe ignorance would be O.K. But not in this life, a life where the capacity for cruelty, suffering, passion, and striving exists, to be ignorant is to inflict. There is no such thing as passive ignorance; you ignore the truth not only at your peril, but at the peril of all who suffer by it. In this life, this beautiful life, we must seek. Only a fool thinks that the path to the light is a straight and paved one."

Abel ran out of things to say.

Violet glanced at him and smiled: "You do have a way with words. The Jedi, I guess." Then she frowned again and looked at her fingers, which were crossed like a blooming flower's petals.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

And even though he spoke against her, Abel couldn't deny that Violet was voicing the same fears that plagued him. As he looked at her, curled up, holding her knees, he could understand that for someone like her it could be doubly hard.

"You know that I…" Violet began, after a time. "I've never really been one with friends. And I don't like to talk about it…or anything." She brushed the hair from her face and turned to him. "I'm not an easy person to be friends with, you should know. I'm…different.

"Well, so am I," Abel answered.

Violet smiled faintly. "Yeah. But…I've barely managed what I have. I just don't know…if everything changes…"

"Not everything," Abel said. "And besides, you'll have me."

"I do appreciate you," she acknowledged. She nodded vigorously. "I do."

"Good, I appreciate you, too."

"Good." She smiled broadly, her teeth showing and her eyes squinting. Then her face resumed its frown and she began twirling her hair with her hand.

"Can I get you anything," Abel asked.

She shook her head. Then she seemed to shake herself out of something. "I think I'll try to sleep."

Violet Gray leaned to her side and rested her head on her pillow, with her legs curled up. Abel stayed for several moments longer, gazing at the small form under the blankets, curled like a cat. He touched Violet lightly on her head, then he left.

.

"We're nearly there," Captain Aurallis called to Abel as he ascended the ladder to the cockpit. Abel was rubbing his eyes. He hadn't slept well.

"Do we have the report from the advance guard?"

"Yeah, they did a full sweep of the planet and the surrounding system and could find no trace of any ship."

A series of beeps and bloops emitted from the left and Abel saw Zeefor rolling towards him.

"Ah, yes, your little astromech here _did_ want me to tell you that he detected some anomalies during the flight, something about receiving signals…" Zeefor beeped some more to Abel. Apparently, he detected unexplained surges occurring at their pit stops. Their X-wing escorts had a less powerful hyperdrive, necessitating some alternative plans to steer around more difficult objects in their path.

"I told your droid that they were most likely our broadcasts back to Coruscant, but he kept pestering me, so…" The droid wheeled around on Jack and started berating him in droid-speak. Abel, meanwhile, thought on it. He had long ago learned that ignoring even the faintest signs came at their peril.

Zeefor shot back downstairs to do a diagnostics report. "If I were you, I'd have that droid checked out," Jack cautioned Abel. "It seems to be missing a couple of parts." He turned and winked at Abel.

"Nah, that's just his way. His sass is a by-product of his programming."

"Whatever you say."

 _Captain_ , a voice crackled from the com, _we're preparing to drop out of hyperspace_. Violet had just climbed up into the crowding cockpit. Abel stomach leapt a little.

"Very good," Jack responded. "We're all ready over here." He started pressing buttons. Abel turned to Violet.

"How are you? Did you sleep well?"

"Fine I guess. I kept waking up a couple times from a pain in my neck. I probably hurt it on Coruscant from looking up at all those tall buildings." Abel smiled apologetically then turned forward and frowned. Something was itching at him.

"Ready to disengage. On three, two, one…" The ship rocked a bit as it zapped out of hyperspace and hovered above Earth. The Moon was off to the right in the distance.

Jack gazed at the planet's surface. "Well, I'll give you guys this. That's one of the prettiest little planets I've seen." Abel smiled at Violet.

"Thank you, we've worked really hard on it." Abel had to agree. The brilliant blue and the great green with the swirls of white…it was a pretty good home.

But as they cruised in, Abel felt a sinking in his stomach. At first, he didn't understand it; he really was happy to be home. Had he eaten something bad?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Violet's face screwed up as she scratched the back of her neck.

That did it.

"Put the shields up," Abel said at once. Jack didn't even really hear him at first, still gazing at the planet, until Abel repeated himself.

"Shields," he answered, "why?"

"Just do it."

"The ships are still reporting no detectable ships, there's nothing –"

Abel gruffed and went forward to start pounding out the sequence. He called over the com, "Zeefor, start up the shields. And while you're at it, start preparing the hyperdrive for another jump."

"What?" Jack sank back in the pilot's chair. "Have you seen something you're not telling me?"

"No…not exactly."

"A vision, then? A Jedi thing?"

"Perhaps. Can you contact the other ships?" Jack shrugged.

"I guess…"

Abel looked out at the peaceful planet before him as he set up the shields. Everything was quiet. But he could see Violet's reflection in the glass. Her eyes were wide. She looked at Abel through the glass. He held her gaze.

"Hey guys, this is Jack. So our resident Jedi here has had some _feeling_ or something, start putting your shields –"

 _Ping, ping, ping, ping…_

Abel looked down at the computer. Yellow dots were sprouting up from all sides around the green dot in the center. Quickly, information flooded the screens, signaling all kinds of ships, their call numbers, capabilities…

"…up," Jack finished. "What the hell just happened?"

Abel didn't know what to say. Then a hail of lasers began battering their ships.

"Jack! Take evasive maneuvers!" To Jack's credit, he got to work fast. He yanked the controls and sped away.

"All ships scramble and GET YOUR SHIELDS UP!" Jack rang out over the com. To the right they heard one X-wing escort blow up. Jack's face was hard pressed forward.

They zigged and zagged as their shields took hits, though not as many as their enemy would have hoped for.

"Does this ship have weapons?" Jack called. But Abel was already on it, pressing a button to bring out the big gun and its accompanying seat.

"Violet," he said, "strap yourself in." But he didn't hear an answer and looked down.

Violet was slumped on the ground, apparently unconscious. Had she fainted? He grabbed her body, which was deceptively heavy despite its petite frame, and strapped her into a seat. He jumped into the gunner's seat at the opposite end of the pilot.

"Are you gonna start shooting? I can't evade these guys all day."

"I'm on it," Abel answered. Taking stock of the situation, there appeared to be about four ships circling them. Another three were attacking the other X-wing. Abel engaged the gun and started firing at the nearest one.

After he kept missing, Jack called back to him, "Are you planning on actually hitting any of them?"

"Sorry, it's hard to aim when you keep moving around!"

"Oh, for the love of –"

"Just get us into position to jump back, Zeefor should be almost ready by now."

Jack corkscrewed up and around and ended on the tail of the nearest ship. Abel pulled the trigger and it exploded into bits.

"Finally, Jedi. I didn't realize you needed it on a silver platter." Just then, their second X-wing escort blew up. They would soon have six on their tail.

"Can you get us out of here?"

Jack pulled them into position to jump as Abel fended off attacks from behind. Then he heard Jack utter "Uh oh."

"What oh?" Abel turned around to see Jack trying to engage the hyperdrive.

"You gotta be kidding me," Jack whispered. It was an interdictor.

.

It was a smaller ship than the normal cruiser class of interdictors, an old imperial frigate. How had this band of…whoever they were acquired it? Who were they? Abel didn't know. But they were quickly gaining the upper hand.

"Can we pull around and jump the other direction?" Jack asked.

"No," Abel answered. "They've been exploring in that direction, but it's too dangerous, it hasn't been properly mapped out. There's only one direction." Abel looked at the gray ship looming off in the distance.

"Well…s**t." Jack sank back. They continued to hurtle towards the interdictor. "And to top it all off, our transmissions are being jammed." Nice.

"If we could get beyond that interdictor we could jump," Jack said as he continued swerving. Their shields were running dangerously low. "But this ship of yours doesn't have a great top speed, does it?"

"No," Abel answered, "it wouldn't be able to fly past the interdictor. Wait…" Abel was thinking about what Jack had suggested. "You indicated that we could make the jump in another direction."

"Technically," Jack answered, stroking his chin, "but you said it was too dangerous to try."

"I know, and it is." Abel was a little hazy on how interdictors worked exactly. "But interdictors don't work like tractor beams, right? They're not targeting us, they're just creating a gravity well that we can't go past."

"Well, sort of. They project a field that extends around the ship…a plane we can't pass…" Jack was unsure of where Abel was going with this.

Abel bit his lip. Leaf Storm was rocking and jerking from Jack's swerves and blasts.

"Let me take over." Abel left the turret and made for the pilot's seat.

"What?" Abel practically shoved Jack out of the way and sat down. "Do you have a plan?"

"Sort of." Jack rolled his eyes and took Abel's place at the gun.

"Zeefor? You there?"

 _Beep beep._

"We're going to try the hyperspace kick-start maneuver."

 _Bleep? Boop, booop._

"What the hell is that?" Jack shouted.

"A design flaw turned into asset," Abel called back. "We'll basically force the hyperdrive to 'kick-start,' an almost instantaneous burst into hyperspace that sends us twenty miles or so and puts us back into realspace. We'll jump on the edge of the field, then slip through." Abel heard no response from Jack for a beat.

"Great. That sounds safe."

"Yeah…and it's never exact. Sometimes we've traveled forty miles…other times, ten. So if we're too short on the jump, we get pulverized by the frigate's canons. And I assume their gravity well in unstable, or else they would have laid in wait to pull us out of hyperspace at some other place, so if we're too long on the jump, we could wreck our ship and possibly explode."

"If they didn't do that already, try to pull us out of hyperspace to begin with, then they want us alive. Or at least you." His statement hung in the air like dust as the battering of blasters continued.

"Possibly." It had already occurred to Abel as the most likely scenario.

"Should we surrender?" Jack asked quietly. It had occurred to Abel, too. He was long in answering Jack as a shadow passed over his face and disappeared.

"No. Alright, passing forty miles to target…I'd rather be too short than too long…Zeefor! Get ready!" The kick-start could only be achieved by Zeefor at the hyperdrive. Abel quieted the world. He breathed in and out…in and out… He reached for the Force, almost like a prayer... He waited.

"Passing thirty-five miles!" Jack called, "didn't you want to stay short!"

Still Abel said nothing. He could sense the ship drawing steadily nearer, feel the drumbeat of the hearts of the enemy pilots as they struck the chords…and like a bowstring, Abel flung out his command.

"Now!"

The world wasn't, then was.

Jack even called out after a second, "did he do it?"

But suddenly Abel's vision was consumed with the great mass of the interdictor frigate ahead of them. At least they were still here.

"We'll only have one shot at this. We better hope we're close enough."

At first, Abel didn't think they were. They continued to drift towards the frigate.

"We're not gonna make it," Jack said, defeated.

But still there were no shots from the ship. And Abel realized that he had underestimated their confusion. It was still taking them time to process the abrupt change.

So with the grace of a great bird on a draft, Leaf Storm sailed over the interdictor and beyond it.

"Zeefor, we ready to make the jump?" Abel asked, but he saw looked down and saw the coordinates all ready to go. "Zeefor, you beautiful bucket of bolts."

"Hey Jedi," Jack called uncertainly, "the interdictor's turning…"

"Well, it's too late." Abel cranked the throttle and engaged the drive and they were back in hyperspace.

.

"Wahoo! That's what I call giving them the slip!" Jack whooped as they sped along in hyperspace, but Abel was already up and checking on the unconscious Violet. He undid her seatbelt and checked her pulse. Still breathing. That was a good start.

Jack realized what Abel was doing. "What happened to her?"

"Fainted, I think…" But she should have come around by now. He felt her brow with the back of his hand. It was warm, as if she had a temperature, and it was matted with sweat. "I should bring her downstairs to the medical room," Abel said, lifting her up. Jack helped him bring Violet's body down the hatch and over to the right corner room. Abel laid her softly on the bed; he placed her weak limbs into place while her drenched hair curled around her head in waves. Little puffs of breath barely escaped her mouth.

"She doesn't look good," Jack observed. Abel ignored this. He turned on the diagnostics and started hooking up sensors. When he had finished, he left the machine to run and sat at the table in the common area. He and Jack held cups of steaming coffee.

"So what happened?" Jack asked. Abel knew that he was asking about everything. Why had these ships appeared? Were they the same group as before? How did they know they would be there at that exact moment in time? What did that have to do with Zeefor's anomalies he had picked up and Violet's fainting? Abel thought he could provide some guesses, though.

"I don't know who these people are, but I do think they are the same as before. I think…I think they tracked us."

"Through hyperspace?"

"Sort of. You know we had to make adjustments, stopping every so often. They probably put two and two together and figured we were coming here. They just had to wait a ways outside the solar system then arrive by hyperspace once we arrived in the system."

"But we run regular tests to make sure we aren't being tracked, and nothing showed up."

"Well, that's only if the tracker is tracking the ship itself."

"What?"

"If it's tracking a person, that would be different." Jack thought about it.

"We would still see a record of it."

"But as transmissions, like communications rather than a beacon." Jack suddenly understood.

"Those anomalies," he said nodding, "the ones your droid picked up."

"Not so nuts after all, is he?"

Jack snorted. "If that's the case…"

"Violet," Abel said simply. Jack looked at him. "She…had been complaining about a pain in her neck and now she suddenly faints and doesn't wake up? I think she has a tracker inside her. They must have shot her when he made our initial escape."

"But why wait so long to get you?"

"We've been in hyperspace or on crowded Coruscant the whole time. There wasn't much they could do."

"And they couldn't pull you out of hyperspace with a smaller interdictor because it could rip you apart. So they want you alive."

"It would seem so."

Jack furrowed his eyebrows almost to the point of squinting. He made a click noise. "But why?"

Abel did not know. There were hundreds of Jedi, so there was no reason to go through such trouble to get him personally. There were billions of people on Earth; there's clearly no reason to go after Violet. Was there something about Earth itself these people wanted to know? Something only a Jedi would know? It was baffling.

It was then that Zeefor rolled up.

"Oh great. Apparently our hyperdrive is running hot. Zeefor recommends we stop to repair it."

"Where the hell can we repair it without attracting more unwelcome guests?"

"There is a Jedi Home on this route and it's only an hour away. Zeefor, do you think it can hold that long?"

 _Beep beep. Bop beep beep boopa bop._

"He says it could probably hold until Coruscant if we wanted to risk it, but it should definitely be able to hold another half day comfortably."

"It's amazing what can be conveyed by a few beeps," Jack smiled wryly.

"I did embellish a little."

"And how does this take care of our other problem?" Abel stood up.

"I'm working on that." And he strode off to Violet's room.

He read the report. There was indeed a foreign object lodged into her neck. He cursed at himself. Shouldn't a Jedi be able to detect that? Jack appeared at his shoulder.

"I'm going to try to turn it off," Abel explained.

"Why not just remove it?"

"That could kill her if not done properly. The Jedi on Karet, Wolee Quin, will be able to do it; she's trained for it."

"How can you turn it off?" Instead of replying, Abel placed a few fingers on the back of Violet's neck, cradling it. He tried to focus on the shape of it, but he kept glancing at Violet's fluttering eyelashes. He turned her over onto her stomach and continued examining the tracker. Abel was never great with machines; he couldn't really use the Force to connect with them the way he could with living things. But he could ever so faintly feel the pulse of the thing, the signal sent. He instead imagined it was a heartbeat, a pulsing living thing. Then he couldn't help but think of it as Violet's own beating heart and it made him afraid to try to stop it; what if they _were_ connected, the twin hearts, the twin beats in rhythm with each other? Then he dismissed the thought as preposterous metaphorical nonsense. But then he thought that maybe the metaphor becomes real if he believes it. So he stopped. But then he thought what if it was like her anti-heart, the pulsing of the dark side. It was right to stop it. So stop. And he felt a click and he felt no more pulse from the black thing in her neck.

"It's stopped signaling," Abel said. Jack, who hadn't even realized anything was happening, looked up.

"Are you sure? I didn't even see you do anything."

"I'm sure. I had felt a faint beep and now it's there no more. We can have Zeefor check for outgoing transmissions when we land at the Jedi Home just to make sure."

Jack eyed him warily. But then he accepted it. If a Jedi was confident, there was no reason for him to doubt them.

An hour later they cut from hyperspace – with a little more shuttering than usual – and sailed toward the rocky moon so recently named Karet. They docked at the small Jedi complex, the only break in the monotony of the white sand terrain. This Jedi Home had been established during the Jedi's explorations in the region, as it was especially riddled with hard-to-navigate nebulas and asteroids. It provided a convenient base.

Abel had radioed ahead to announce their arrival to Wolee Quin, who now came hurrying down the ramp towards the ship. The Rodian Jedi took the body of Violet, which was covered with Abel's Jedi robe for warmth, and brought her in to her own greatly expanded medical room, complete with an actual medical droid.

"I'm pretty sure I turned the tracker off, but I didn't want to try to remove it."

"Yes, that was best. I will do that."

Abel sat uncomfortably on a seat nearby, squirming, as Quin examined Violet. Jack glanced around the room.

"You say she was shot with a projectile?" The Rodian eyed him.

"It would seem most likely." She nodded. The medical droid confirmed their analysis of the tracker.

"Yes," she said after a while, "we can remove this with no problem. X360, please – "

But suddenly there was a movement of twitters and wheels as Zeefor sped into the room. Abel's stomach sank.

"A transmission was sent out?"

But the droid didn't even have time to respond. Sounds of blasters filled the room as masked figures made their way in. Abel was stunned. How –?

Explosions rattled. Quin was quick with her lightsaber, but the ceiling burned through and caved in, sending her sprawling. Fire reigned. Abel reached for his own lightsaber, but it was back on the ship. Dumb. Dumb! Captain Aurallis was valiantly trying to fight back, blasting anything that moved from behind a corner. Abel saw one of the figures dart forward to snatch Violet and Abel reared up to Force him flat against the wall, but another piece of the ceiling caved in, sending a block of iron against his skull and blackness dimmed.

.

 _It was a city; its towers rose and rose until they blocked out any hope of sunlight. Smog saturated every particle of air. Strange lights appeared in the distance. And there, thrown from the ship, a girl in white…The smog hung about her…_

 _._

First was the smell of smoke. Opening his eyes, then hearing the crackle of electric fire, and seeing hazy redness. Throbbing in the back. He started choking. Red flames licking the ground, redness waving in the dark.

 _Violet!_

He stumbled forward, but the table was no more. He looked around the burning room. Quin was dead. Aurallis was dead. And Violet was gone.


	18. Chapter 18: Setting Sail

A/N

New Word:

Smay l'uwe qis mon di = a phrase in Basic

Huttak toque = a phrase in Basic

Tagwa = a phrase in Huttese

Nala sa chooda = a phrase in Low Huttese

Choola yakuta = a phrase in Low Huttese

.

New Concept:

.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Setting Sail**

.

Abel flew from the burning base in Leaf Storm – it had a security lock – and set it in orbit above the planet.

He didn't know where to go. He felt the itch that he had to go somewhere. But he felt so tired, so oh-so-tired, and the throbbing in his head was still there. He reached out his hand as if trying to grab on to something, clenching his fingers like claws, but there was nothing.

He swiftly climbed down from the cockpit into the communal room and sat in a chair. He stared at the wall.

What was to be done?

He suddenly seized on that.

Before he could do anything, he must contact the Jedi council. Yes, they would know what to do.

He put in a call to Coruscant.

.

"We will take care of it. For now, you must return to Ossus or Tython to rest, probably Tython. Your friend And is there and can help you to recuperate." Master Kothi moved to terminate the call.

"Wait!" Abel begged. He had called in distress and the Jedi Council members on Ossus had helped to calm him down. "But what about my vision?"

Before he had come to, Abel was certain that what he had seen was a vision of Violet, though he could not see her face.

Master Kothi stroked his pointed black-gray beard. "It is possible." But he looked doubtful. Abel didn't think the master had believed him the first time when he came to discuss his "vision" about the masked figure. "But we will, of course, look into it."

Abel felt pity for, of all people, Lena Morava. She had often complained (bragged) about having visions, and none of the other initiates took her seriously. It seemed that this often happened with the Jedi knights, too. Or perhaps it was just with him.

"We will let the Academy know to expect you," said a friendlier voice. It was Master Iril. He hardly ever sat in on meetings these days on account of his age. "Is there anything in the meantime we could do to help?" Master Kothi twitched.

Abel thought about saying "You could rescue Violet," but thought that wouldn't go over well. They would do what they could.

He sighed. "No."

They broke off communication and Abel set his course for Tython.

.

As the ship continued its course, Abel sighed once more and looked at his hands. They were coated in dust and soot from the fire. Actually, his entire body was coated. He knew he should go down to shower, but he sat where he was in the cockpit.

He hardly even noticed that Zeefor had come up until he heard the twitters.

"No, she's not. Don't worry, I know you did your best." Zeefor had been there, but there was nothing he could have done to help. Actually, Abel was rather impressed that he was able to escape a scrap pile.

The droid scooted forward and took out a claw, resting it on Abel's shoulder. Abel turned to the droid, bemused.

"Is that supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder?" He smiled sadly as the droid retracted the tool. It sputtered out some more beeps.

"Yes, I know you do. Come on, let's get you down to charge."

Abel climbed down and, after assuring the droid that he would have everything under control, helped him power down.

Abel finally stripped off his burned clothes and turned on the shower. He turned to face the faucet and let the water slap him right in the face. He thought he had figured it out. He had realized they were being tracked, found a way to escape, stopped the tracker…but apparently, he had not.

 _Why did it seem like I always make everything worse? I'm really not qualified for the job. I had thought, choosing the Blue Path, I could have maybe skirted around some of these messy bits. And Violet… But I'm sure that was her in that vision._

He turned around and let the water course down his back. He watched the dribbles carry the soot down and off his body. He couldn't help but smile a little. Looking at his own body, he had never thought he would ever grow so strong. But he had learned a lot over these four years, and he had grown as well.

 _Screw it. They want to make me do this, then I'm gonna do it. I have tools now._

The pebbled droplets drummed on his head.

 _But I can't, I just can't_ , he thought, remembering the glower of Master Kothi. _It is not only expected of me to obey, but it is the way of the Jedi; it is the path I have chosen._

He massaged the soap in his hands and looked down.

 _They have given me a purpose, they have built me a home, and to throw it away…was it not the honorable and good thing to listen, the wise action to be still?_

He continued to ruminate as the water flowed down the drain.

.

Abel eased Leaf Storm onto the landing lawn of the Tython Jedi Academy. He could see through the window – and his instruments confirmed it – that it was another beautiful day on Tython.

As he waded through the smoke of the repulsorlifts down the ramp, he heard the grunts and hisses of combat. At the far end of the lawn, toward the direction of the Crystal Lake, he saw two figures fighting, practicing. And they both looked far too advanced for students.

As Abel walked over, he could tell they seemed evenly matched, lightsabers flicking in and out, whipping around, far faster than he could manage. Finally, one of them was thrown backwards and flew over fifty feet, landing right in front of Abel. He saw the other figure zap her saber closed and collect her hair into a ponytail.

"Not bad, apprentice," Master Lu said to the figure at Abel's feet. The figure spat then smiled lazily at his master.

"You didn't technically finish me off. I could still continue. But we'll call it a draw in light of our new guest."

Shirtless and soaked in sweat, the Nautolan looked up at Abel.

"Nice of you to drop by," And said. "It's been a while."

.

The three of them headed up the path to the Temple. The grounds were abuzz with students practicing, not unlike the very first day that Abel arrived. Master Lu led them to a small room in the temple complex that normally functioned as a meditation room. There she asked Abel to recount what had happened, since she and And had been away from the Council at the time.

Once he was done, he was glad he had done so. Master Lu was probably the master he was most comfortable with on the Council (even counting his own Master Fenn), and she got straight to the heart of it.

"This recent vision. Do you have a guess where it might be?"

Abel shook his head. "A city, obviously. But where, I have no idea." She frowned.

"I would encourage you to think further, to try harder to remember, but I trust you are already doing that." Abel nodded. "Yes, hmm… This girl, this is the one who was present when you had that other…vision?"

"Yes, I've had a weird time of it lately."

"You do not believe that this girl is a force-user, do you not?"

The question took Abel aback. "N-no. I did actually test it out one time. Why do you ask?"

But she was silent. When she spoke again, each word was measured equally, a tenuto, as it were.

"I do not say this lightly, but to put you both on guard: I think the Force is moving into shadow."

"What do you mean?"

She turned one eye on him. "Come now, historian, you must know what I mean. The light only rules for so long until darkness follows for a time. At least, that is how it has always been. We have been at peace for too long, and I am uneasy." She abruptly stood up and folded her arms into the long sleeves of her robe.

"I must part with the both of you now." She turned to And. "I know you will act wisely, my padawan. You are strong." She removed a hand from her folds and placed it firmly on And's arm. Then retracting it once more, she gazed at the both of them. "May the Force be with you." Then she slipped out the door.

"Why does she have to go?" Abel asked.

"We discussed it before you got here," And said. "This has actually been a long time coming. I don't know what Master Fenn confided in you, but several Jedi on the Council have had suspicions that something isn't right. Even something within the Council itself. They also didn't want Master Fenn to act on the visions she was having –"

"Wait; my master was having visions?" _Why didn't she tell me, especially after I talked to her?_

"Well, yeah, that's what her mission is about. I thought she had told you."

"Evidently not."

And didn't seem to know how to continue, but Abel reassured him.

"It's fine. Whatever. But where is Master Lu going?"

"She's going after Fenn. They haven't heard back from her for two weeks."

"Yeah, me neither." Abel thought. "She didn't want to take you with her?"

And shook his head and hesitated. "We thought I might be needed elsewhere."

Abel looked out the window. They were several stories up, facing the east. The sun had long since risen and there was no trace that it had crested that horizon only hours before. But he knew it was up overhead; he could see the dancing light in the waterfall.

"Do you ever wonder," Abel mumbled to And, as if just waking from a dream, "why the sun leaves nothing in its wake?" Abel leaned against the window frame, letting the breeze filter through his hair. "I mean, something so great should leave a path."

And shrugged, and walked over to his friend, crossing his arms. "One would think; but that's not how it all works." He paused, examining Abel's vacant eyes. "Abel, I didn't go with my master because –"

"I know why you stayed," Abel said, his eyes refocused. "But how can we? The Council said –"

And said what the Council could do instead.

Abel cracked a smile, then looked away. "I've never been one to do that." He crossed his arms and sighed. "Even your master supports this? But she's on the Council."

"She said the Council has become too – how shall we saw – delicate? Bureaucratic? I guess your master wanted to shield you from the ugly bits. Ever since the downfall and the Empire, the new order has been struggling to grow or even maintain its presence. Even as it's starting back up, it's dying; people just don't believe in its importance anymore. That's part of the reason for the Paths; they're trying to funnel everyone into a lucrative role so that they can demonstrate that the Jedi are still relevant. Consequently they're afraid that if they step on the Union's toes, they'll lose even more support."

"But why should they care about the Union. We're our own organization."

And tilted his head side to side. "Sort of. Luke Skywalker and his descendants tied us closely to the Rebel Alliance and New Republic. Again, I'm not entirely sure of how it's all connected, but Maser Lu had said that there is an intense power struggle going on at the top."

"Great."

"Yeah. So that brings it back to us. When are we going?"

Abel uttered not a word.

With a sigh, And leaned his hands on the window sill and leaned out, taking a deep breath. "I don't know about the back end of the sun's path, but I do know that it keeps going forward in a predictable line as the planet turns; nobody tells them what to do. The universe doesn't listen to, then follow the Force; it performs right action." He threw in that last phrase, one of the Jedi Order's favorites. "Obedience is right, listening to the wisdom of experience, and I suppose I could do with a drop more of it" – Abel chuckled – "but the Jedi Order is not a military. Our path is not laid out before us by the Council, it is ours to walk."

"What about the will of the Force?" Abel asked wryly.

And mulled it over. "Yeah, I guess that matters too. But that only proves my point; the Force is bigger than the Jedi, and a whole lot bigger than the Council. For all their power and wisdom, even the Council cannot see all ends."

And went silent as Abel pondered his words. Finally he spoke: "You know, I think I've at least come to one conclusion: you're actually pretty wise when you want to be, And."

"Careful," And replied solemnly, "that will most certainly inflate my already bloated head."

They both laughed, then And placed his hand on Abel's shoulder. "I knew you were a good guy the moment I saw you, Abel. But sometimes you need a little push."

With a bang, the door swung open and before Abel could get a glimpse in, he was engulfed in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, I got here as fast as I could, but we were still in the middle of a sting, so I couldn't just up and leave, and I was worried that I wouldn't make it, but then our guy just came right in and –"

Tiloa kept jabbering away as she pulled back and Abel, not really listening to her story, smiled.

"It's nice to see you, too," Abel cut in. She beamed, then got serious again.

"I had no idea all this was going on until And contacted me. You've really got to keep more in touch."

"Ah – I mean…there was a lot going on," Abel finished lamely.

"Still!" She slapped him. "But the question is: where are we going?"

Abel stared like a deer in headlights. "Uhhhh…"

"Oh. So this is where you are." Zek entered the room. "I've been searching the complex for near fifteen minutes."

"Zek!" Tiloa shouted, "I thought I saw your ship on the lawn."

"Did you notice its missing drag fin? I was in the middle of repairing it when I was rudely interrupted by this one's call," he said, pointing at And. And held up his hands.

"Hey. You didn't have to come; I didn't make you," And said solemnly.

"Obviously I came for Abel, not you. I would have left you to rot." Zek broke into one of his rare grins. Even rarer, he came over and hugged Abel. "I hope you are well; or, at least, better than should be expected."

Abel laughed and nodded. "I'm alright. But I don't remember –"

"So when and where are we going," Puli shouted as she breezed through the open door. Abel sighed. Then his eyes lit up as Lev followed Puli into the room. "Lev and I were both on Coruscant, so we hitched a ride together."

"Great!" And shouted. "Everyone's here. I couldn't get a hold of Kyrana, and Kay's too busy at the Senate, but he sends you all the luck in the Force."

Abel glared at him. And raised his eyebrows mischievously.

Was he sure? No, he hardly ever was. It was not in his nature to be sure, just as it was not in his nature to disobey. But as Abel knew too well, his knack for obeying did not stem from self-discipline, as the Jedi masters had lauded him for – he had been regularly praised by his teachers as an example to follow – but instead from a desire to ingratiate and (dare he admit it?) a lack of will. But there could be no middle ground. Jedi must be obedient and have strength of will, so how was he to choose when they seemed to conflict with each other? _When values fail to point the way, look to the outcomes_ , his master had said. Had she foreseen the dilemmas he would face? No doubt. Wiping everything else aside, Abel came back to one inescapable fact: his friend had been taken. Maybe he did lack the will to act, but he would not be alone.

"Fine." Abel glanced at And, and they both understood what had passed. "But did you also mention that I have NO IDEA where we have to go?"

"It's not exactly wise to ask for volunteers when you don't know where you're going," Tiloa said, looking disapproving towards Abel.

"Really, Abel, it's not professional," Zek said.

"I feel cheated."

"Let down," And said, but he held up his hands when he caught Abel's eye. "O.K., truce. But we know we'll figure it out, we're all here to help. I mean, there are only so many places it could be. How many cities of that scale are there in the galaxy? Probably ten, twenty…"

"– About five hundred cities of that magnitude, including twenty-five ecumenopolises –" Zek interjected.

"…so we have nothing to worry about," And finished happily.

"Hmpf," Tiloa said, crossing her arms, "I don't know if I would have come if I knew there'd be this much research."

"What are you talking about? You love research!"

"Ha ha. Only when I already know what I'm looking up, and I'm just proving my point."

Abel sat down and looked at these five classmates. Even as they bickered, he knew they had each left something important to come help him. His face grew red.

"O.K., O.K.," Abel said, raising his hands. "Now: how are we gonna do this?"

.

They had been at it for nearly a week. They had scoured reports on suspicious activity, looked at hundreds of slides of photos and read up on any leads Abel might give them.

"I was definitely on a platform of some kind and there was a great open space in the beyond it. It was probably another half-mile to the next building."

They looked for parks or other open spaces in city layouts.

"I think there was a green store sign in the background."

They'd look for green signs in photos.

It was tedious work.

Abel decided to take a break. He left Zek and Puli who were hard at work in the library and headed down to the garden. His brain was even too tired to meditate; instead, he contented himself with sitting and watching the birds float from branch to branch.

"Hard at work, I see." Master Yul was ambling down the steps. Abel smiled.

"Clearly."

"I did mean what I said." Bones creaking, he sat down next to Abel. "You have to get some rest between your work, or else your work suffers."

"That's true," Abel said, "we definitely did have a lot of free time at the Academy."

"And not without reason," Master Yul said. His eye was drawn to a little purple sparrow-like bird that suddenly appeared on a nearby branch. Master Yul smiled at it. "How is your search progressing?"

Abel sighed. The teachers had actually been giving him and his friends a fair bit of help; a little with the research, but mostly with reminders to eat and offers to use their offices and resources. It was especially weird to work with them as sort-of colleagues; indeed, the teachers seemed to give them a certain amount of respect, even though they were in fact still padawans.

"Slowly. Very slowly. I worry that by the time we figure anything out, it will be past help."

"Do not lose hope. I believe that you will find what you need in the end, and in time." He watched as the purple bird began ruffling its feathers in a weird dance. He laughed. "I wish I could afford you more help, but there is nothing I possess that you do not already have in this case."

Abel snorted. Another purple bird joined the other and began to peck at its fellow's feathers.

"It is true. Do you know, when I was a young padawan I fancied myself a great duelist?"

Abel didn't find this surprising. Sure, Master Yul moved slowly, but looks were often deceiving, especially amongst Jedi.

"But of course I learned over time that I was abysmal at the practice, at least as far as Jedi masters went. I gradually began to pursue my connection with the Force and found that there, in the deep recesses of my mind, I was strong. Instead, I surrounded myself with friends who could duel and they protected me. Of course," – he tilted his head to the right – "it is admirable to know one's weaknesses and improve on them. But" – he tilted his head to the left – "it is also wise to know that you will always have limitations and seek out help. This is why I am overjoyed to see your classmates returned here to help you."

"But I thought you said that this was something I would have to do alone," Abel countered.

"No," Master Yul said slowly. "Merely that this is not something I could be much help in, because you already have all the help you could get."

He gestured to the pair of birds. "It's like those birds. The one has come to help his mate clean his feathers of the southern mists. But could you imagine if twenty birds came to help? It would become a mess."

"I don't know, I think I'd take a hundred or a thousand helpers."

"No, no, a few trusted minds that know yours is far better." Abel shook his head. They watched the birds continue their ritual.

"What are the southern mists?" Abel asked.

"Oh, they're a region to the south that was once heavily populated by humans. And of course the trees of Tython did not like it very much, so they created a mild poison that infected the air and forced the humans to abandon their city. But it still hangs over the area, so these birds that often fly through have to disinfect themselves…"

But Abel had suddenly stood up.

"I…I have to go; you've given me…or – I think I've figured it out. Thank, you master!" And Abel sped away before the master could get a word in.

It was the idea of smog that did it. He had remembered fog in the dream, but he had assumed that it was just – I don't know – kind of hazy. But it what if it was actually there, what if this fog was smog, poisonous smog…

He burst into the library and ran right over to where And and Tiloa were relieving Zek and Puli.

"Balosar. It's Balosar."

.

They finally stopped. By Violet's count, they had been traveling for four days, though she wasn't sure when she had actually woken up. Her captors had stunned her when they first took her, and the first thing she saw when she woke up was the steel bars of her cell.

Her captors came in occasionally to give her food and water, but they never lingered long. She hadn't gotten a good look at them when Abel had, so this was her first time noticing their bald heads, sunken eyes, and bulbous noses. They also tried to question her, but, seeing as she couldn't speak a word of their language, she wasn't able to answer even if she had wanted to. Naturally, they took her silence as a refusal and they shocked her. Repeatedly.

After the first couple shocks, she tried to keep up her determination. She didn't know who they were or what they wanted, but she would not let them break her in anyway, no sir. But the shocks kept coming. And coming. And she just couldn't take it anymore. She was so tired. But there was nothing she could do to stop it, no choice she could even make. She spent every hour now crumpled on the floor like a used tissue.

Most of the baldies that came by were gruff and went about their business, but there was one that Violet noticed would often hang just outside the bars, watching her. He seemed younger, possibly even an adolescent, but he always caught Violet's eye from the way his hands shook popping tablets into his mouth while he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Then he would abruptly retreat, his heavy boots thudding against the floor.

It was this same thudding that woke Violet and forced her to get up. The young alien touched a button and the bars snapped up, opening up the entrance. To her surprised, he gestured for her to exit, holding out his hand. She looked at the hand. At this look, he abruptly withdrew it and straightened up. In a jumble of limbs, Violet pushed herself up and, smoothing out the white gown she had been given on Karet, moved cautiously toward the opening.

The alien touched her arm as she passed. She had thought he was helping her through, but then he roughly turned her around and handcuffed her, saying something harsh. As they passed through the corridor, the others stood aside almost in reverence, though Violet didn't know if it was for her or her young captor.

He handed her off to a larger man, who was especially broad in the chest, a notable characteristic among these lanky people. He wore several buttons on his pressed shirt which seemed to indicate some sort of rank.

 _Probably the captain here_ , Violet thought.

He ushered her off the ramp and into the gaseous world.

She spluttered and choked from the smoke. The others were putting on small gas masks, but they had neglected to give her one. Violet barely had time to take in the scene – industrial yard, lanes of ships zooming by with a city backdrop, a purplish sky barely pierced with light – before she was thrown down to the ground.

Her lip hit the ground and began to bleed.

"Smay l'uwe qis mon di?"

The fat blue winged creature hovered over to her, his snout bouncing as he bowed low to her captors. He rubbed his hands incessantly with a handkerchief, turned brown over the years from grease. His eyes kept flicking to Violet lying on the ground.

"Huttak toque?" the large captor grunted.

The blue creature smiled. "Tagwa."

"Nala sa chooda," her young captor spoke suddenly. The captain turned and glared at him, while the other three captors shifted uncomfortably. Even in her haze, Violet could understand that he had something he should not have.

But the blue creature nodded solemnly and replied: "Choola yakuta."

He immediately dropped his ingratiating act and became serious. They exchanged more words and the blue alien went back into his shop. He was gone for several minutes. Violet, who had slumped against the side of the ship, watched her captors appear to fret, nervously shifting their feet and glancing at each other, but hardly speaking.

The shopkeeper returned examining and turning over a small item in his hand. After speaking with the captain, he advanced toward Violet and began to jabber. She tried to scrunch her head into her neck like a turtle, afraid that this might be a new kind of torture device. It was a simple band, slightly flexible. _A choker?_ But then the blue alien shoved it roughly into her ear, and the machine garbled at her. _Language?_ Suddenly, she heard quite clearly: "Can you understand this?" And her eyes went wide.

"Yes?" she said curiously.

"Tagwa," the device repeated, though it emanated out of her mouthpiece.

The shopkeeper turned to the others and they nodded satisfactorily. Only then did Violet realize what had happened. They could talk to her now. And maybe she could be free. But already she felt the cold feeling of betrayal seeping in her veins.

Just then, several armed men came storming out of the shop and motioned for Violet's captors to drop their weapons. The authorities! She was safe! She wouldn't have to talk to these creatures after all!

Her captors stood still, still deciding whether or not to comply with the order. The leader turned to the young one and for a moment, Violet thought he was going to strangle him, but the young one was yelling imploringly to the blue shopkeeper. He held up his hands and shrugged, his wings beating eagerly behind him.

Suddenly their ship let loose a volley of cannon fire and the attackers scrambled. One of the captors grabbed Violet roughly and ushered her onto the ship. As she was trying to regain her feet, a stabbing pain of a thousand knives hit her back and she crumpled. She smelled burnt flesh.

They dragged her up the rest of the ramp and left her in the corridor while they scrambled to escape. Violet thought about trying to escape herself back down the ramp, but it closed just as the thought appeared.

A boot filled her line of vision. She looked up and saw the young face above her.

"Jeesa orlo bootana. Chowbasa tah Nava Seeda Banda."

"My name is Orlo Bootana. Welcome to the Gods Heart Union," the machine echoed back.

.

"I am really sorry that I couldn't come," Kay said. The six Jedi padawans were crowded around the hologram in the library, talking with their friend on Coruscant. "But it's getting crazy here. The representatives are whispering about war."

"War?" Abel said, concerned.

"At least that's what the intelligence is claiming; that we have to go to war."

"With who?" And asked.

Kay shrugged. "They're not saying just yet."

"But how is the Union supposed to declare war on a mystery target?"

"That's why I have to stay; they're supposed to reveal the whole thing tomorrow. But I do wish you luck. You know I'd be there if I could."

They nodded and after a few final goodbyes, he signed off.

The padawans were all packed up and ready to leave. They had decided to take one ship – Leaf Storm – to make things easier, though they would be a bit cramped. The teachers gave them some food and supplies, and Master Yul surprised Abel by handing him a small button.

"It attaches to your skin, preferably somewhere inconspicuous." Abel placed it under his shirt on his ribcage.

"What is it?"

"A beacon. If you activate it, we will know you're in trouble and will know your coordinates."

"Why…why would you give this to me?"

"The mission your master went on. She…she was not sure of her success and she gave me this to give to you if you came through on your way to danger."

Abel looked down at the small dot. It looked rather like a mole. _A large mole_ , he thought. _Cancerous probably_.

"Thank you."

The master shrugged. "It was your master you should thank. She's looking out for you even when it doesn't seem so." Then he ambled away.

Abel touched his side as they made their way up the ramp of the Leaf. He stopped suddenly, counting four ahead of him.

"Where's Lev?"

And shrugged and Tiloa crossed her arms. "Did he decide to…abandon the mission? It would probably be the best, for his sake I mean," Tiloa hurried to add.

Abel turned to gaze up the cliff, shielding the sun with his hand. They waited for a few moments.

"I don't see him," Puli sighed.

"Perhaps…"

"There he is!" Abel shouted, pointing. Lev emerged out of the wood and galloped across the lawn. He was burdened by a bulky box.

"Sorry," he said breathlessly. The others waved at him, then continued to board the ship.

"Can I help you with that?" Abel offered, but Lev shook his head. "What is it?"

"My instrument. I wanted to bring it just…just in case."

"In case of what?"

Lev looked at him silently, then shrugged. He began to pass by Abel, but Abel thrusted out his arm to stop him.

"Lev, you know you don't have to come. I'd understand. Completely."

But Lev broke into a rare smile. "I know it. But I want to. People always think they need to have my back. But I have theirs too. I have yours."

"Don't I know it," Abel said lightly, slightly ashamed.

"You need it. You're useless."

Abel realized that Lev (Lev!) was teasing him. Abel shoved him.

"Rude!" They walked side by side up the ramp laughing.

.

The Leaf hummed in the wind and gently rose above the trees. It shot northward and angled to the west, silhouetted before the great moon Bogan. A gust of wind shook the mighty branches of the great trees of Tython, sending leaves scattering to the sky. Only a pinprick now, the ship hovered for a moment, then shot instantly out of sight, leaving nothing but a streak of white on the blue, blue sky. A squirrel had turned its head at the sonic boom, faintly carried by the wind. It looked up for a moment and sniffed. But then it turned its head back to the ground. It would need many more nuts for the coming winter, and there were many, many nuts still to go.


	19. Chapter 19: Avulsion

A/N

New Word:

"Ga, ag muni" in Basic

.

New Concept:

hedecorine

.

Chapter 6: Avulsion

.

It was a relatively short trip from Tython to Balsoar. They took the Corellian Run around the center of the galaxy and took the spur towards Balosar after a day of travel. Much of the energy they had had at the beginning of the trip had waned, especially with the cramped conditions. The six of them spent most of the time in the small common area playing games or reading.

As they neared the system, Abel climbed up to pilot them in. As he was checking the controls, he heard Zek climb up behind him. Zek hovered over Abel's shoulder.

"It's a nice ship," Abel commented. "Thanks for all the help on it."

Zek nodded as if he were dodging a pesky fly and continued to stare out into the blackness. "Do you have an idea of where to go when we get there?"

"No," Abel responded, still checking the coordinates, pretending not to worry. But Abel was actually quite worried; they couldn't very well check the whole planet could they? "I figured we'd start in the capital. That would be the most likely place. Probably start with the seedier areas."

"Haven't you been to Balosar before?" Zek asked. "It's all seedy areas."

"Yes…" Abel admitted, "but some are worse than others."

"Hmmm…" Zek continued to look vexed. Finally, Abel turned around and faced him.

"What?"

"What?" Zek replied, startled.

Abel sighed. "You clearly have something on your mind. So spit it out."

"Spit it out?"

"Spit it out, it's an expression. Are you worried about something?"

"More of an idea." Abel stared at him blankly until he continued. "I know you said you couldn't remember what ship they were using."

"Nope."

"But you did say it was some kind of freighter."

"Something like that, yes. Used for shipping. But there are probably tens of thousands of such ships that have passed through Balosar."

"Yes, but most would probably be going to the shipyards or to a supplier. The description of your dream seemed to indicate it was in a commercial area."

"Yes, so? A commercial area, that's where a freighter would probably go."

But Zek was shaking his head. "Actually, no. To reduce congestion, most cities direct large supply ships to land in a landing area and transport the goods via smaller ship or by train. If a ship wants to travel into the city, they have to get the permission of the local traffic coordinator to allow them passage."

"They would have to give a ship's code," Abel said, starting to get it.

"Of course, our captors probably gave a phony number, but there would still be a record of an entry fee, and those records are publicly printed by the city."

"So we can check to see what freighters put in requests and narrow our search considerably!"

"And we can probably narrow it even more by dismissing some of them. I would expect there to only be a handful we'd have to check."

"Zek you are…brilliant."

Zek shrugged. "I suppose."

.

They arrived on Balosar armed with the knowledge of twenty-three cases that seemed to fit their bill. After scanning their ship for cargo, the traffic control officer waved them by without a second thought.

"Well that was easy," Tiloa muttered as they sailed down into one of the skylanes.

"They only really care about cargo," Abel replied. "What can be bought and sold."

"I didn't actually think Balosar would care that much about any kind of security."

Abel grunted. "It's not for security. It's so that they can take a piece of the pie."

They reached their first location several minutes later. They decided to take the direct approach: two of them would ask point blank if they had encountered a group of bald men with a pale girl and the others would try to sense if they were lying or not. It was a fairly easy trick for the Jedi, and with so many of them on hand they thought they would get a pretty good read.

Their first stop, a shady warehouse on the outskirts of the city, appeared to be a bust. The gruff Gotal wasn't pleased to answer their questions, but they could sense no subterfuge. The second looked promising, overlooking a city skyline at about the right angle, but the Balosar woman who owned the joint had no idea what they were talking about, nor why their heads were sprouting flowers or why she had tiny banthas running across her hands.

"Death sticks will do that," Abel muttered as they got back into their ship and sped away.

They encountered more evidence of death sticks at their sixth stop. Across the street, the remains of a small university crumbled: paint peeling, I-beams sticking out, and trash piled three feet high. In the front yard where a fountain once bloomed, two Balosars huddled underneath an overturned planter, the trees long gone, with a pile of empty tubes at their feet.

While the others filtered back to the ship, Abel nodded in their direction to And. "This is what happens across this planet." He remembered – it was nearly a year ago – when he came here with Master Fenn. He had hoped…but he hadn't been able to save Seleen. She wouldn't even listen. "I pity them."

"Them?" And said, nodding to the two in the school yard. "That's the problem. Everyone in the galaxy pities Balosar or hates Balosar, as if it was Balosar that made the death sticks."

"Exactly. It was Coruscant. They made them so popular –"

"No, I mean it wouldn't be a problem if the government and the people would address the reasons for why people get death sticks in the first place. And if in the meantime the Union could stop compounding the issue by treating Balosars and others like weak-willed deadbeats."

"I know –"

"It's like those two over there," And indicated. "They don't deserve out pity but our friendship. Just let them –" He huffed then shook his head. He was clearly agitated.

"And? Do you know someone who –"

"I forgot. You have more reason than most to hate death sticks. That girl you met died here, right?"

Abel nodded. And made a clicking sound and crossed his arms, digging his toe into the gravel.

"Come on. We don't want to stand too long out here with our skin exposed."

.

The sun, or the garbled version that passed for the sun, was setting by the time they got to the ninth place. Immediately, Abel knew it was the right one: the platform, the city skyline in the background, the shop…

"Bolbi's Hut," Zek read. "It says it sells droids and starship parts."

"That's likely," Abel said sarcastically. "This is the place, I know it."

As they strapped on their gas masks and stepped off the ship, a Toydarian fluttered out from the garage.

"Excellent, excellent, how may ah help you?" He bowed low.

"We were wondering," Abel began, "what you knew about the freighter of bald men you entertained a few days ago and the girl they had with them."

Bolbi blinked. "Ah am sure, ah do not know to what you are –"

"He's lying," Tiloa and Zek said immediately.

"Ah am sure, ah do not know what you mean. Ah always tell the –"

"Lying again," they chorused.

Bolbi grew red in the face, but then Abel removed his traveling cloak from his hip and showed his lightsaber. The others did likewise.

"As you can see," Abel said, "we know if you're lying or not. So the truth will do, please."

"A'right, a'right, ah didn't know who you were, see? Can't be too careful around here." He glanced uneasily in the alleyways and gestured for them to come under the roof of the garage. "Yes, ah saw them. Two days ago. Ah assumed that that girl was their slave. They wanted to buy a droid and ah sold it to 'em. But if there's more sinister things about them, ah don't wanna know!" As he waved them off, Abel raised an eyebrow at the others and they nodded. They didn't detect any lies.

"Do you know where they're headed?"

"'Course not. Why'd they'd tell that to Bolbi? Ah just made a simply transaction."

"And you don't know where they're from. Or who they are?"

"Well…" Bolbi hesitated. "Ah know they're from Hutt territory…"

Abel could tell that Bolbi was trying to give them as little information as he could without lying. Apparently Lev could tell that too. He suddenly stepped forward and stretched his hand toward the Toydarian.

"Hey, what's he –"

But he immediately crumpled on the ground and began to writhe. Back and forth he rolled, his arms and wings flapping useless. Horrified, Abel turned to stop Lev, but just as he did, the writhing ceased and Lev opened his eyes.

"I didn't trust his words. But I saw him: he knows them, called men to capture them."

"You captured them?" Abel asked.

Bolbi was still on the ground in a pool of sweat. He looked fearfully upwards. Then he nodded.

Abel blinked. "She…she's here?"

Bolbi nodded in defeat. "I had hoped to sell her."

"Well then…take us to her." Abel tried to sound intimidating, but he sounded more like a whiny child.

Bolbi got up, bowed, then fluttered to the back. "You can hardly blame me for trying to throw you off," Bolbi said. His light tone was back, but he still flinched when one of the padawans advanced too close. "It's just good business, you know."

Abel stared at the rusted-out radiators and carburetors covered with cobwebs. It didn't look like business was all that good to begin with.

"It's not a sound business policy to deny information to Jedi," Tiloa growled.

"Ah know, ah know, but they were quite valuable, you see."

"Why?" Abel asked suddenly. "Why would they be so valuable?" The whole thing seemed fishy to him. Clearly, he was involved in some underhanded side business, hence having men he could summon to help him capture people, but he should have known he'd be handsomely rewarded by the Jedi, certainly more than he'd get selling them as slaves.

Bolbi turned around. "Ahh…" He seemed at a loss as to how to answer his question.

"Do you know more about their operation, perhaps?" Lev moved forward.

Bolbi put his hands up and cowered. "Please, please, ah know very little. Just that they are insurgents, some upstart band hoping to take on the Hutts. Heh heh. Unlikely, unlikely."

"So you hoped to sell them to the Hutts?"

"Please," Bolbi gestured to the door, which had just slid open. "Please, just come into the elevator. You can take your friend and go."

Abel's heart was hammering. _Thank God, thank God, she's here…_ But still, something…he couldn't feel…

They ushered inside and Abel squeezed back to give Bolbi room. But he didn't step in; instead, he shut the door.

"Aren't you –"

But before Abel could finish, pain shot through his entire body at once. He was on fire. He couldn't feel anything, just pain, PAIN.

He was lying down. A limb moved under his head. It sounded like someone was speaking.

"Don't even try to force your way out of here. Its ray shield technology has you cornered well and good." Abel looked through the door.

Bolbi was hovering triumphantly above him, a look of glee on his face.

"I could kill you to keep you from reporting me, but I won't; you're my bargaining chip outta here. Ha!"

He fluttered around the junk-filled room in joy. "They'll have to let me go now! It won't matter that they escaped, not after this! No, no!"

Abel turned to look at the others. Their faces were red and their clothes singed, but everyone looked alright.

"Abel," Puli whispered, "do you have the beacon?"

 _Of course! The beacon from Master Yul!_ Abel felt his ribcage and found the cold metal circle. He supposed this counted as a dire situation. He looked at And who nodded. Abel pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

"It's not working….it's not working!"

"It must have been the shock," Zek sighed. "It would have deactivated any electronic device. These rooms – I've read about them – they keep it charged after a shock, preventing it from reactivating."

"Lightsabers?" Tiloa said, hopefully.

"Nope."

Meanwhile, several armed men dressed in the uniform of the Balosar security strolled up to Bolbi. But from the way they moved, Abel could tell they wouldn't be any help to them. Though they were standing far away, Abel could hear snippets like "our lucky day" and "doesn't matter now that" and "the Hutts."

 _The Hutts? Why would they be looking for Jedi?_

The captain walked over to their little room.

"Yes, you have done much better this time, Bolbi. They will be valuable."

"As I thought."

The captain scoffed. "Indeed. Now: give them a stronger shock and we can move them to a ship."

But as Bolbi moved to push the button, Abel saw a streak of purple.

A scream echoed through the room as one man fell, then another, and another. Blaster fire rang out, but the shots were sent back and bodies fell.

The captain pulled out his own weapon. "Argh! Get that –" An orange streak appeared on his back. The padawans saw him slump to his knees and fall over, dead.

Kyrana stood tall, her purple lightsaber in hand.

She did a quick sweep with her eyes, then, satisfied that everyone had been eliminated, pressed a button and the door to the shock chamber lifted.

Abel threw himself into her and wrapped his arms around her. She was momentarily stunned, but then patted him lightly on the back.

"It's good to see you," he said, pulling away.

"I should think so," she responded, a smile tugging at her mouth.

The others gathered around her and expressed their gratitude.

"How did you find us?" Puli asked.

She turned to And. "I was already on my way to Tython when I got your little update and changed course on the Corellian Way."

"But how did you know where we were on Balosar?" Abel asked.

Kyrana looked at him oddly. "You are in Leaf Storm. I saw it on my tracker."

"Hey!" he said, throwing a look to Zek. "I thought you said it was supposed to be untraceable."

"Are you really complaining?" Kyrana said, folding her arms.

"Well…I mean…more of on a theoretical, general level."

"Uh-huh."

A groan cut short their banter and they looked down to see Bolbi crumpled on the ground…again. Looking up, he saw seven Jedi standing over him. He gulped.

And took out his lightsaber.

"Don't," Abel said. "It's not worth it."

Bolbi scrambled back, his right wing dripped blood from the hole in it.

"It's clear that ending his life would save others," And said.

"Is it?"

And shrugged. "It's the logical thing to do."

Abel thought. It certainly was the logical thing to do; but was it the right thing to do? He didn't know. He had told himself in training that when the time came to do what was necessary, he would do it. But now that he was here, he found he didn't have the stomach for it. Was that cowardice or courage, he didn't know.

"Put him in the cage," Tiloa said. "We can call security as we leave."

Zek looked at him darkly. The Balosar police were notoriously corrupt; it was easily possible that Bolbi had connections that would get him out again. But Tiloa was right; they would have to do it.

So they pushed Bolbi into the cage they had just left and returned to the Leaf.

.

"Where to now?" And asked as they crowded into the common space.

Abel had been looking at Kyrana who was fussing over Lev, bringing him water, touching his head…

"Hutt space," Abel replied darkly. _Lord knows what's happened to Violet there._ "It seems we're finally gonna find out what we missed at the Stellar Lounge that night so long ago."

.

Violet had been woken up and handcuffed to a chair, the cuffs glowing blue, warm against her sweaty wrists. A couple minutes later, the captain came in along with the protocol droid and flanked by two others, including the young one, and they each grabbed a chair opposite her. There was no table between them, so she could see the young one – Orlo, that was his name – shaking his knee up and down. The light, ever dim in her cell, was turned up high so that they could assess her reactions. It was an interrogation.

The captain spoke and the droid followed up. "Who are you? Are you a Jedi?"

"I'm no one. I'm not a Jedi." She jerked her head. Some of her hair had fallen across her face and it was bugging her.

"But we saw you; we saw you use the Force."

Violet almost laughed. "No. I was with a Jedi."

The captain leaned back and spat a word to Orlo who looked down at his feet. The captain turned his head back to Violet.

"The man. He was a Jedi?"

"He is."

Violet shivered. She had no idea what she was doing; was it a betrayal to answer these questions? Would it put them – him – in danger?

"We have ways of ensuring what you tell us is the truth." Violet licked her lips.

"I'm telling the truth."

He stared at her, his sunken lifeless eyes boring into hers. They were unreadable. He glanced to the other man and nodded.

The man stepped forward with a rod and touched Violet.

Her face was sopping with tears when it stopped. Her cries echoed around the room, subsiding into sobs. A great screw had been twisting through her body cracking her bones, searing her skin…

Looking up, the captain was as impassive as always. But Orlo had covered his mouth with the back of his hand. The hand was red with teeth marks.

"You are not a Jedi."

"N-no," she whimpered.

"But you are from that planet, the one that we tracked you to?"

"Earth?"

Her interrogators looked at each other. "This is its name?"

"Yes." Violet realized that that must have been a new piece of information, but she didn't care anymore.

"On this planet – Earth – you do not have the Force there?"

Violet could only shrug. "I do not know. I am not a Jedi."

At this, the captain showed his first sign of emotion: he chuckled. Then he leaned forward so that his face was perfectly illuminated. "You do not have to be a Jedi to know the Force." He sat back and passed into shadow once more. "We should know."

"I only know that I have never felt anything like the Force. Everything moves as it should."

The captain smiled and breathed deeply, immensely satisfied about something. He stood abruptly. He waved the others on and they made to leave.

"Is that it?" Violet asked. As much as she wanted them gone, she still wanted to know more. "Why are you keeping me? What do you want? What is this Gods Union?"

The captain swiveled around. "Who told you of this?"

Violet squirmed back in her chair and her eyes flicked to Orlo. The captain advanced on the younger one and set his face against him. The veins in his head were popping; Violet thought he was going to hit him.

Instead, he spat, "Think next time you open your mouth, Fire-Eater." Then he turned around and strode out the door. The other man followed, but Orlo lingered in the doorway.

"Is it true?" he whispered and the droid, ever faithful to its programming, translated. "Is there a place free from the Force?"

Violet didn't know if he was addressing her, so she kept silent. But then he turned and faced her.

"When I was there, I felt nothing; no hint of a power lingering at the borders of the world. But you do have a Jedi," he said doubtfully.

"He told me; he only found his power once he left. We have nothing like the Jedi on my planet. To have such power among my people is…unthinkable. It is fantasy."

"Truly?" He advanced on her like a puppy dog, his eyes wide with hope. His eyes traveled over her like she herself was a marvel.

"Who are you?" Violet was stunned. "Why would you seek a world devoid of the Force, a power that could…could lift things – people – up and triumph over evil?" She stared defiantly at him at this last bit, but he hardly noticed it.

"Why? You'll understand when you see my world," he said. "The Force is not a force for good as you seem to believe. It is a power out of our control. But a place free from it…free to make our own choices, to make our own world!"

He began to pace excitedly. "Your planet is unspoiled, untouched by the Republic or the Union or the Hutts…and even the Force!" He clapped his hands. "The Evocii were once free. We had our own planet and we prospered. But the Hutts came and stole our planet, stole even its name and now it is a reeking swamp called Nal Hutta, the center of their empire." His fists shook with anger. "They killed their home planet and now they slowly do the same to ours. Only it is no longer ours. We have been cast out, most of us murdered, and have been forced to live on a cursed planet on the doorstep of the Godsheart." The fire went out of him and he collapsed on a chair.

Violet didn't understand most of it, but the last word reminded her. "What is this Gods Heart?"

He looked darkly at her. "It is a place of evil. In our elder days, we believed it was literally the heart of God; many Evocii still do believe this. And whether it is or not, it is the cause of our suffering. The Hutts long ago learned how to harvest its power, and we are ever at its mercy. It is a place of energy out in the dark void of space; it is consumed by the Force. The Force spits out like solar flares from a star, wreaking death on our new planet."

"If you hate it so much, why do you name yourselves after it?"

Orlo smiled. "Life is full of contradiction. We named it our god, but so did our oppressors. We named it our god, but it acts like a devil." He shook his head. "You would have to be one of us to understand. Even those Evocii that hate us, that think we'll bring nothing but wrath from the Hutts and the Heart, they at least understand: one dies, one is born; we are the new Heart of God."

.

Judging by the amount of time they had been traveling, they were probably passing Mimban by now.

Kyrana sat down across from him, and Abel pulled his eyes away from the window. She noticed him holding his side.

"Tiloa told me about the gift from Master Fenn. It was good of her."

Abel nodded. "Of course. Though I don't really understand why she did."

She tilted her head. "Perhaps she thought you need help more than the rest of us." She failed to keep a straight face and Abel smiled back.

"The others already made that joke."

"Oh…" she said, nodding, "Yes." She glanced over to where And was struggling with the coffee maker. "I am sorry I could not have come sooner."

"Don't be. It's clear you arrived right when you were meant to."

"Still. I did not mean to delay." Abel noticed that Kyrana looked particularly tired; her chin was resting on her folded arms lying on the table, while her lekku drooped sadly.

"You seem tired."

She shrugged and began to trace the decorative lines on the tabletop. "I suppose we are all tired these days."

"Amen to that," Tiloa said, grabbing a seat. "It's nonstop. But…it's not just the amount. I used to imagine myself like my ancestor Ahsoka. I still do," she said, blushing. "I can't really help it. But now I'm starting to think that she had it easy, at least in the beginning."

Abel snorted. "I don't know, I wish I could move like she did. She was fearless."

"Because she had it easy," Tiloa countered. "All she ever fought was droids. And armies of nameless faces. I've drawn my lightsaber countless times, so many times…"

They all had. Some more than others, but they all had at some point.

Kyrana rubbed her eye. "Then I usually have to be there to clean up your mess."

Tiloa glared at her, but realizing it wasn't a criticism, subsided. "Yeah. Sorry."

"We both have our jobs."

Tiloa reached over and patted Kyrana's back. They sat in silence for a while. Kyrana left to make more tea. Tiloa seemed to sense Abel's thoughts which ever turned back to _her_ , for she asked:

"So Abel, who is this that we're trying to un-kidnap? Do you make it a habit of taking girls up into space?"

Abel eyed her.

Tiloa winked. "Show her the sights?"

"What's this?" Puli sat down in the fourth chair.

"Oh, we're just trying to find out about Abel's girl."

"She's not my girl!" Abel complained as Puli looked up excitedly. "As I told the council, I had been with her when those people attacked us on our planet. She was forced to come along by circumstance."

"Yeah, but who is she?"

"She's a…friend."

Puli smirked at Tiloa. "He hesitated."

"No I didn't."

"It's about time," Tiloa said. "Honestly, you're as drama-filled as a brain-dead nerf."

"Stop teasing him," Kyrana interrupted. Abel looked up to see the Twi'lek girl slide into the room. "This is no time for such talk."

Tiloa looked a little abashed and murmured an apology to Abel as Kyrana took a seat at the table. Abel flicked his eyes to her as a thank you, and he found her staring steadily at him. The look was clear: _are you O.K.?_ Abel half shrugged in response.

"It's odd," he said to the three of them, "how I both want to talk about her with every fiber of me, and yet I can hardly bare it without my stomach churning."

"Well, what's she like?" Puli asked him. "Maybe talking about what you like about her."

Abel found six eyes glued to him; even Kyrana was eyeing him curiously. He sighed. "I don't know; she's a student, interested in science…she has ten fingers and ten toes –"

"Ugh, you're so boring," Tiloa complained.

"Is she loud or quiet?" Kyrana asked seriously.

"Quiet. Generally, at least."

"You said she's smart?"

"Definitely."

"Does she know her own mind?"

An odd question, but perhaps not so odd coming from Kyrana. Abel remembered how the petite girl had thrown herself into a race on his account, how she had been ready to confront the Jedi Council (the Jedi Council!) over its treatment of them, how she saw to the heart of Abel's great matter.

"Yes; I'd say so."

Kyrana sat back. "I like her."

"Yes, I suspect you would."

"But how strong is she, and how clever?" It was Puli who asked this.

"I can't say for certain," Abel suggested, "but, though small, she has an inner strength. And she is clever."

"Let us hope so," Puli choked, "she's going to have to be."

.

Violet wove through the sandy streets, her white gown billowing behind her. Several passersby gave her strange looks, but she hardly noticed them as she finally ducked into an alley. Breathing heavily, she peeked out from behind the corner but could see no one trailing after her or looking her way. She ducked back in and leaned against the wall. Now what?

Violet had woken up that morning as the ship jolted out of hyperspace. She vaguely recalled her dream: sitting on the porch of her house overlooking a field, though her house in real life didn't have a porch, let alone a field, but still, it had been a pleasant dream.

She sat up and craned her neck to the side, stretching her arms and yawning. They had given her a mattress – courtesy of Orlo – and it was a sad lumpy thing, but at least it was something. They hadn't come to ask any questions since that one day and in the intervening time, Violet had had time to think and to recover her strength. She thought on what she had told them, and though she worried she had said too much, she shrugged it off; she had been in no position to lie. But now she realized that, even if she didn't understand the purpose or plan of the NSB, she knew it couldn't bode well for her home. And that was reason enough to try to defy them if she could.

With nothing to do, her new enemy became boredom. Determined not to let them get to her again, she began to exercise body and mind, doing pushups and mental math problems to pass the time. Still, she looked forward to whenever Orlo decided to visit; he was the only one she ever saw anymore. He would come in to converse, and even Violet's guarded tongue wouldn't stop his monologue. He would usually talk about life on his home planet or his travels across the galaxy, and he was ever interested to hear what Violet's life had been like. She tried to keep her answers vague, but she couldn't always resist reminiscing on her pet cat or kindergarten. But he usually came midday, which is why she was surprised to see the door slide open as she was waking up.

Orlo came in carrying her food for the day and set it delicately next to her bed. Violet looked up warily.

He shrugged and smiled; the translator droid wasn't there.

Violet furrowed her brow, asking "Why so early?"

Orlo pointed to himself, then, holding his hand parallel to the floor, palm down, brought it down to say, "We're landing."

Another Evoci stuck his head through the door and spoke to Orlo: "Tatooine vota."

As Orlo turned to acknowledge him, Violet recognized the first sound. _Tatooine! She knew that one!_ But would she have time? Would they all leave?

Orlo turned around and noticed Violet making choking sounds and pointing to her throat. He shrugged, and she held out a fist and motioned like she was grasping a cup and drinking. He pointed to her water, but she shook her head. Finally, Orlo gave up and fetched the translator droid.

"I feel faint; on Earth, we would take certain medicine to make us feel better. My Jedi friend had given me something, I believe you call it _hedecorine_?" Violet looked up hopefully, putting on what she thought were her biggest doe eyes.

Orlo arched an eyebrow and frowned. "I don't think we usually use that for health purposes…"

"Well, our physiologies are probably different…" Violet could see that she was losing him. "But of course, I understand. You probably wouldn't want to be seen helping me. Your captive," she laughed derisively.

Orlo's eyes flashed. "I hope you'll cease to be such soon. To treat you as such… You will see." He hurried away.

A minute later he was back with a bottle and he placed it in her hand. Violet was surprised by how warm it was. His hand, she meant. She nodded gratefully as he gazed at her, trying to figure her out.

The gentle thud followed by the winding down of the whirring machine signaled that they had landed. The chorus of boots clip-clopping outside jolted Orlo and with a click of his own boots, he strutted out of the room.

Violet remained seated with her bottle as the sounds died away. She waited several more minutes with only her breathing for company. Still nothing.

 _Hoo. O.K._

And she got to work.

First, gather materials. She set the bottle aside and took out the glass of water from her boxed lunch and put it with the bottle. Then she broke open her lunch and tossed out the gelatinous mass of food and scraped off the white preservatives. She lifted the contents to her nose, sniffed, then smiled. As she thought. She put the box of the white powder with the water and bottle. She nodded. Then she hopped up and went to the wall to her left. While the technology on the terrorists' ship was undoubtedly advanced, the ship itself was a little run-down; the useless wires hanging out were proof of that. Violet tugged out one of these wires, selecting one about a foot long and gently pulled the copper wire out of its tubular sleeve. She placed these with the rest. Now to begin.

First she poured a little water into the plastic container with the white powder and mixed it thoroughly. Next, she poured this solution into the bottle with the hedecorine and gently stirred the mixture that was starting to turn colors. Hands shaking slightly, she lined the glass of water next to the bottle and took the wire tube in hand. Then she picked up the crumple up piece of copper wiring and, with a deep breath, dropped it into the bottle. At once the mixture began to froth, but Violet quickly covered the opening with one end of the tube and placed the other into the water. Gas began to pour from one into the other and soon the end of the tube in the water glass was beginning to disintegrate. But after a few minutes, although the final mixture was slightly green with contamination, Violet was satisfied.

It seemed a pretty innocuous liquid: about the same consistency and transparency as water, completely still in its glass; but Violet hoped it would prove its worth. She marched up to the door, glass in hand and began to dribble its contents along the door frame. Immediately the metal started to disintegrate and fumes began to rise. Once she was sure that metal around the edges of the hole was safe to touch, she reached through the hole and touched the pad on the other side. The door swished open.

Violet looked frantically down the hall, but she heard no blaring alarm, no bald-headed Unionist yelling, "Stop that prisoner!" Hopefully every single one of them had vacated the ship, but she highly doubted it. She turned to the left, pretty sure that was where the sound of the boots had gone.

She crept as silently as she could, sacrificing speed for stealth. As she tiptoed, she peeked through the doors as she passed and she couldn't help but notice how dirty everything looked. She would have thought a paramilitary organization would have placed a little more emphasis on the 'organization,' but jackets and wrappers were strewn left and right, a pile of small plastic tubes were covering a work station, and one area was closed off with peeling tape, looking like it had been so for ages. She could hear no sounds as she crept, so she began to walk a little more swiftly.

After a few turns, she finally reached the ramp which had been pulled shut. She was afraid of that: not only would she have to locate the button to open it, but someone was most likely in the cockpit and would see it being lowered.

Violet sighed.

She searched the nearby wall and found several buttons and pads, but which one to choose? She ignored one placed near a speaker (intercom, probably), and ruled out several near the ground…but then she saw it: a lever. It was in the up position. Violet prepared to push it down. Breath. She would have to be quick. She pulled it down.

The ramp began to lower, accompanied by the hiss of repulsorlifts and the whine of the machinery. Violet's palms were sweaty and she rubbed them on her white shift. _Shoot_. She realized that she should have stolen some clothes to make her less conspicuous – god knows there were jackets galore – but it was too late now. The ramp, halfway down, wrenched to a stop. That was as good as she was going to get.

Violet raced forward and squeezed through the opening, and, realizing that she was still several feet from the ground, twisted her body and rolled off so that she was dangling from her hands. Then she let go.

Her knees buckled as she stumbled and fell. But she was alright, aside from a skinned elbow. She whipped around frantically, then sought cover under the ship. As she caught her breath, she looked around her. She was clearly in an outdoor spaceport as she could see another ship fifty yards away and several more after that. While she could hear the faint roar of a crowd, she didn't hear any nearby shouts that indicated she had been spotted. Then the wind blew and she was forced to cover her eyes: sand. The spaceport was covered with it, practically made out of it, and the sun above blazed down, heating it up. She was on Tatooine alright.

Violet looked left, then right, then sprinted for the wall of the complex and hugged the shade as she searched for the exit. She soon reached the exit tunnel, but as she was going through, she was accosted by a large lumpy alien, whose elephantine head was as large as its body. It spoke guttural basic at her. Violet could only shrug and make appeasing gestures while trying to back away. The Chevin waddled over to a counter and indicated at a screen.

 _Ah_ , Violet thought, _he's the security here._

Again he barked at her and again she pleaded. Finally, the creature pointed to the ground – "stay here!" and turned around to make a call. Violet took the moment his back was turned and sprinted up the stairs, the calls of the guard echoing along the tunnel walls.

Violet ran into the blinding sun. Shielding her eyes, she turned to see a human sprinting up the stairs, so she barreled forward. Thankfully, she had emerged into a sea of sand and people, so she wove in and out, hoping they would conceal her. She didn't know where she was going, just that she had to get away from anyone who might try to catch her. Or try to talk to her. _Hmm, just like high school_ , she thought. Then she laughed at herself. What a thought to have at a time like this. Another shout behind her, and she put on more steam.

And that was how Violet came to be on the run in a white gown and covered with dust.

But now what? Her best course of action would be to contact Abel; or really any Jedi, or hopefully any official personnel. But Violet remembered Tatooine from the movies: it was place on the outskirts, filled with unsavory characters, so she didn't really know who she could trust. She had thought once before that she was being saved by officials, only to have Orlo tell her later that no, the group that had almost captured them on Balosar was decidedly not the police. She would have to be careful.

She waited a few more minutes, then reentered the main boulevard at a relaxed and confident pace. She kept her eyes peeled for any place that looked inviting or looked like a…call center? She didn't really know. But try as she might to blend in, she realized it was futile. Everyone else was covered up: some with full length cloaks, others with simple cloths haphazardly tied around their heads. The only ones forgoing this fashion looked to be the "unsavory characters" Violet had thought of earlier, the smugglers and bandits, the tough guys. Her short shift and flowing hair marked her. Women began to skirt around her and Violet ducked into the first building that looked at all reputable, just to escape the oppressive heat.

It appeared at first to be a restaurant or bar. Chairs grouped around tables in which small groups of people chatted or played cards, and long the back wall was a long row of chairs. But Violet soon realized that this was not a bar, nor were the patrons being served food; it was a cooling center. Along the back wall, people sat in chairs as a dome descended over their heads, not unlike at a hair salon, and Violet could feel the cool mist even from the entrance. Guests at the tables were served cool water or slushies.

An older human male appeared at her side and seemed to ask her a question. He was balding at the top of his head and his face, already heavily lined with wrinkles, wrinkled further into a smile. Violet smiled gratefully back but pointed to herself.

"Basic," she said, and shook her head, making a slashing motion. "Don't speak. Ni toque."

"Ahhh…" the man nodded. "Ga, ag muni." He gestured to a seat, but Violet shook her head.

"No…I…toque." He nodded again to say he understood that yes, she cannot speak basic but she shook her head. "Ag need to toque…" She mimed picking up a phone and talking, gesturing to the roof. The man's eyes lit up in recognition, but he frowned and shook his head. But Violet implored him.

The man glanced around his hunched shoulders, wringing his hands. He gestured with his head. _This way_.

He brought Violet around the counter and into an alcove. He showed her the holocomm, but left quickly, presumably to keep watch. Violet assumed it was not in their regular policy to allow non-customers to use the phone. Violet focused on the holocomm.

Now that she had found one, she realized she had no idea how to work it. There was a datapad to her right, but what would she do? Look up a name? Look up a phone number? And, of course, it was written in Aurebesh so she had no idea how to read the script, let alone understand the language. Frustrated, she yelled, "Call Abel!" The machine spoke to her, but it might as well have been beeps and boops.

A man appeared at her side and she started to turn and explain that she didn't know how to use it, but she realized it was a different man. This one was large and certainly not smiling. He held out his hand, palm up; Violet knew exactly what he wanted, but she could only shake her head. She had no money.

She was ushered out the door, rather roughly and spilled out onto the street. Violet shook her head and kept moving.

.

She must have been walking for hours. The yellow sun had already passed its zenith, and the red sun was low on the horizon. Violet had wandered into a more residential area and finally sat on a crate, exhausted. She wiped her brow and looked down at her knees. What was she doing? She had no idea how to navigate this planet. Should she try to stow away on a ship? Maybe. But even if she managed to get on, who knows where it would take her. Would she just bounce around from planet to planet for all eternity?

She was interrupted by a low screeching voice. An old woman was croaking at her jovially, ushering her to come inside. Violet looked doubtfully. The crone was bent over and her rags practically doubled her size; which, truly, was not that much considering she was little more than skin and bone. But Violet had reached the end of her rope and, sensing no harm from the woman, followed her inside.

The hovel was little more than an earthen cave and, on entering it, Violet began to cough from the musty air that was surely worsened by the fraying cloths hung about the room. It was one room: a lumpy mattress shoved in a corner, a fire with a pot in the middle, and a small cupboard with a pile of trinkets and rags to the other side. Violet guessed that there was a communal outhouse judging by the putrid smell outside.

The woman opened the cupboard and removed a glass bottle of water; at least, Violet assumed it was water, for it looked slightly murky. The woman poured it into the pot over the fire, then took out a bag of ground leaves and two smaller cups.

 _Ah_ , Violet thought, _she's making tea._

The woman gestured for Violet to sit on a pile of rags as a chair, and Violet did so, smiling gratefully. They sat in silence for a few moments as the water simmered. The woman gazed at Violet and made no attempt at conversation. The water began to boil and the woman put the leaves into the mixture, then handed Violet the cup with her tea.

The woman made another croaking noise and pointed to Violet's cup.

"Sorry, I don't speak basic. Ni toque basic."

The woman shrugged and smiled. She opened her mouth wide and Violet looked into it: no tongue. So she was effectively mute.

The woman croaked again in laughter and pointed to her throat and Violet's throat and made a sign with her hand, slapping her thumb and four fingers shut repeatedly. Then she pointed to her head and Violet's head and pointed between them, smiling. Violet understood her perfectly: although neither of them could talk, they both could understand one another.

The woman pointed to Violet, then acted looking frantically around, holding herself close. She pointed to her again and pointed to the sky and made a whistling noise. Yes, she was lost and far away from home, Violet nodded. The woman patted her chest and looked fondly at Violet. I'm sorry.

"I was taken," Violet said. She mimed being taken, acting with a stern face as a captor and taking hold of her own wrist, pretended to be hand-cuffed. The woman let out a small squeak. She gestured to her ear: why doesn't Violet try to call?

Violet tried to explain, but she couldn't. She couldn't explain that she had no idea how anything worked, how she didn't understand language enough to even attempt a call. She covered her mouth: she can't speak. She covered her ears: she can't listen and understand. She covered her eyes: she can't even read.

Finally, with her own hands covering her face, she began to cry. She hadn't really let herself cry for her pitiful state the entire time. Her ratcheting cries began as faint tears but ballooned into sobs that came out in waves of wails.

The woman moved silently over and placed a calm hand on her shoulder. It remained there steadily as Violet subsided. She dried her hands and face on her shift and smiled at the woman, who moved back to her seat. Violet shook herself. She would get back on track. She would be fine.

But the woman tapped at her in earnest. She pointed to Violet and made a fist, her face contorting into a grimace. She was strong. Violet hiccupped. _Strong? Ha. Sure._ But the woman nodded vigorously. She pointed to her own body and made a fist again. Physically strong. She pointed to her head and made a fist. Smart. She placed a hand on her chest and smiled. Strong inside.

Violet shook her head, smiling, but the woman flung her arms out wide. She felt around her, like a mime in a box, and traced an area around her. She wove her arms between the area she had traced in a dance, then swept her arms to her own body and pointed vigorously inside her. She made a fist.

"Strong…everywhere?" Violet asked. But the woman shook her head. She placed her hands together, palms opposing, like she was praying, but pushed them together, each one forcing the other…

"Strong with the Force," Violet said simply. The woman nodded smiling. "But I don't have the Force," Violet shook her head. She extended her hand towards the pot, then towards the woman's cup, and shrugged. "I can't move anything."

But the woman shook her head. Again, she swept her arm around her, pointed to herself and Violet, then pointed to her chest. Strong with the Force between all things. In touch with the right of the world. Understanding and acting in its flow.

Violet smiled, but didn't really believe it. Still, she appreciated this woman's kindness more than she could know. But she couldn't stay here; it would help her little to stay tucked away. She stood up and thanked her host. But the woman insisted on giving her a little something. She rifled through her pile of rags and removed one about the size of a Violet-sized cloak. The woman gestured for Violet to take it.

She suddenly laughed heartily and pointed to Violet's shift. She made a sign, interlocking her thumbs and flapping her hands, and of course Violet understood: a bird. She looked like a white winged bird in a sky of sand. The rag would help her to move under cover. She donned the cloak, and thanking her profusely, bowed low to the woman. The woman seemed slightly taken aback, but inclined her head in return.

Violet swept out of the hut, determined to reach a ship. If she could at least reach another planet, she could escape her captors and move about more easily. She could worry about contacting help then.

She soon realized that the cloak had an additional purpose: the air had turned bitter cold. Now that the suns had set, the temperature had dropped at least fifty degrees and Violet hugged her cloak tight. The light from the city center guided her way and about a half-hour later she had made it back to a crowded street.

But then she noticed it. Not fifty meters away stood several bald-headed men sifting through the crowd, eyes peeled. Violet's breath caught, and she turned slowly and began to walk the way she had come. But there were two more coming her way.

Had they found her? Most likely not. They hadn't made any sudden movements. Most likely she had just found herself in the wrong place in the wrong time. She glided carefully to the side and made for the alley between two buildings. But just as she was going to break into a run down the lane, something in front of her made her stop.

A young girl of some other species was huddled against a wall. Farther on, a group of young boys had set up a lean-to and a fire. What's more, it was blocking any hope of escape for Violet. She turned back to the boulevard: she could wait here beside the girl while she waited for her captors to pass her by. But then she glanced at the girl again.

The girl kept glancing at the fire the other young ones had made, and Violet got the impression that she had tried many times to creep near the fire, only to have the others chase her off. What's more, the girl had only a shirt and loose pants. She was shivering; Violet could hear her teeth chattering from where she was crouched.

In the years since, this has always been a moment that Violet has turned over and over in her mind. What made her do it? She couldn't say. Perhaps it was some all-powerful Force. Or perhaps it was the kernel of a plan forming in her mind. Or maybe it was a moment of lunacy. She didn't know. But what matters is that she did it and it changed her forever.

She slipped off the cloak and her skin screamed in protest. She knelt down to the little girl and offered it up. The girl's eyes were wide in disbelief. She seemed to fear a trick, but Violet smiled, without pleading or righteousness, with only the certainty of care behind it. The girl suddenly snatched the cloak and pulled it around her shoulders like a blanket. Without even a nod, she collapsed into sleep.

Then without another thought, Violet stepped into the street and trumpeted an almighty call. It reverberated off the sandstone walls, drowning even the buzzing of the street. Captors and crowd alike turned to her as she walked out of the dark-lit alley, her white gown luminous in the moonlight.

She glided like the night, walking calmly as her captors scrambled to take hold of her. Her serene face beheld those of these men, blubbering and blundering toward her with fear in their eyes. The crowd stood, awestruck at this girl in white who so calmly accepted her capture. One mother touched her forehead and spat towards the nearest Evoci. "Puju!" she snarled. While her captors pawed at her and gripped her arms, the face of Orlo loomed over Violet. His eyes were watery and confused. He shook his head sadly at her. But Violet stared back, her eyes like glass, clear and ready to cut.


	20. Chapter 20: The Belly of the Beast

A/N

.

New Word/Concept:

Antars

Undubba = OON-duh-buh

Mogando

The whole religion of the Godsheart

(All non-English is in Low Huttese)

.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: The Belly of the Beast**

.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Abel said.

"Why?" Tiloa said. "I'm about as fond of the Hutts as the next person, but if anyone knows where they might be located – and not feel like telling the Jedi Council about our whereabouts – it'd be them."

"Yeah, but wasn't Bolbi in league with the Hutts? Isn't this just walking into the lion's den?"

They had just entered Hutt Space and were coming upon the Hutt home planet and capital, Nal Hutta. Abel felt like they were just making everything up as they went along; barely having a plan, deciding to go places on a whim… But maybe this is how all Jedi felt, even masters, and they just played it off well. Though he personally doubted it.

He looked over at Kyrana to gauge her reaction, but she stared ahead, lost in thought. "I agree that they would not harm us. But they might hinder us and bar entry; they certainly would not want a bunch of Jedi poking around their…enterprises."

"They might be grateful for our help," And said. "The Council doesn't seem to want to do anything about it."

"Or they might be worried that we'd poke the hornet's nest." Abel ran a hand through his hair. "Might, might, might… It's too risky."

"No," And countered, "the mights just point out that success is a possibility, whereas flying aimlessly around the galaxy has about a zero percent chance."

Abel's mouth twitched as he thought of glass half-empty, half-full comparisons.

"Besides," And said, "you don't really know the Hutts."

Abel huffed. "I know them more than you. I've been studying them for two years."

And looked at him doubtfully. "I guess we'll see how much that studying's worth."

.

The Nikto guards pounded on the door in ritual fashion, and after receiving the reply, opened it, allowing the Jedi to glimpse the chamber of Undubba Desilijic. It was the height of luxury, though in its own way. The stone floors were polished clean, interspersed with numerous bathing pools. Attendants armed with towels and drinks flitted between the pools, serving the handful of high ranking clients of the Hutts that reclined in them. Soft, sultry music echoed through the room while light streamed in through the glass-covered ceiling, bouncing off the gilded walls. Tables filled with food piled up high lined the curving walls, and chefs stood waiting at the ready to make a hot fresh meal on the spot. It was hardly the "dungeon" that Hutts supposedly lived in. And beyond it all, over the largest pool of piping hot, steaming water, on a cushion as large and bulbous as a humpback whale, sat Undubba.

"Welcome, my friends," Undubba called in Basic. They approached cautiously and garnered hardly a look from the other clients in the water. They had seen this all before.

"Please, come and enjoy a fresh drink," he slurred as they stood below his mass. A Twi'lek girl appeared at once with seven drinks on a tray. She looked all of about twelve.

Abel cleared his throat. "Thank you, your greatness. Your greatness is too kind." He motioned to the others and they each took a glass and sipped. Abel noticed Kyrana's hand was trembling as she held the glass to her lips. "Now, we have a gift for you, your greatness."

Abel motioned to Puli who moved forward to extend the gift, bowing her head below the Hutt. An attendant reached for the package then brought it up the step to Undubba who unwrapped it.

" _Antars_!" He squeaked, laughing at the clear box filled with ten of the little creatures. Abel kept up his smile, but inside he felt sick. Antars were a non-sentient species whose males usually roamed alone; but the galaxy had long ago realized that if you caged them together, they would fight each other to the death, often in especially vicious and gruesome ways. It is thought that these fights were the forerunner to dejarik. But Hutts always liked the real thing.

"Look at them scramble!" Undubba's eyes narrowed and his smile split into a wide grin. "I shall watch them later." He lifted the box and placed it into an attendant's waiting hands. "Sedate them in the meantime."

While the Gotal scurried away, Undubba clapped his hands. "Oh my little padawans, what fun! You must visit more often. I do enjoy these little pleasantries!"

"Your greatness is too generous," Abel said, bowing. "I thank you for allowing us to behold the light of your gilded chamber."

"Gilded? Ha!" Undubba cackled. Abel had meant the word as linguistic flattery, but Undubba seemed to take issue with it. "These walls are solid gold and marble. Gilded, ha! I thought you knew me better, Jedi."

Abel blushed, but And came to his aid. "Of course, your greatness. We meant no disrespect to your fine palace overflowing with opulence."

Abel thought And was treading a little close to disrespect, but it seemed to mollify the Hutt. "Yes, yes, but how were you to know?" Undubba waved them off. "I am sure you have pressing matters to discuss with me, but they can wait. I have my daily…exercise to deal with now." Abel highly doubted he would be lifting so much as a tail tip for whatever his "exercise was. "In the meantime, enjoy yourselves!" Immediately, a crack opened into the wall behind him and the Hutt and his seat flew backwards on a rail. The Jedi were left alone.

"I'd hate to think what matters are bringing him back into the shadows," Tiloa muttered.

"Light or shadow, it makes no difference," Kyrana growled. "It's all slime."

A human man approached them, but Abel quickly realized that this was no ordinary "attendant" (slave): he walked with the confidence of a free man. "May I show you to a pool?"

"No, thanks," And said, "Perhaps a snack?"

But Abel jumped in. "Actually, a dip in the water would be perfect."

The man inclined his head. "Of course. I will have food prepared for you while I show you to your pool."

Only when they were already unclad and enjoying the hot bubbles did Abel explain why he had taken up the offer. "It shows good manners to the Hutts," he explained. "They consider other species lesser species, so we're washing off our filth, metaphorically."

Kyrana sniffed. She had steadfastly refused to enter and instead merely removed her shoes and sat on the edge with her feet in the water. "I do not like this waiting."

And bubbled up to the surface and laughed. "Neither does Tiloa. She could never sit still during negotiations."

"Mostly because I never had such comfortable accommodations," she yawned, leaning her head back against the plushy edge. But then she sat up and looked directly at And. "Also, did you hear Kyrana from all the way underwater?"

"Yup. Loud and clear." And smiled wide. "Nautolans and water, you know."

Abel once again glanced to the cubbies which held their things (although they had left their lightsabers on the ship). Beyond them, he watched as Puli, who had risen out of the pool to get some food, was being chatted up by a couple clients. A sense of unease was growing in his mind, a watchfulness, but it was probably just the normal anxious feeling of being exposed in such a place.

The bubbles had ceased and most of the Jedi were resting their heads. A plopping sound dropped Abel out of his reverie.

"I do not like this." It was Kyrana. "Why can we not approach him now?"

Abel sighed. "Because, that's the best way to do things."

"That's not how I do things." Another swoosh of water and Kyrana tip-toed her way across the floor, gathering up her things.

"Whaaat are you doing?" Abel asked.

"I am going to the Hutt."

Abel knew there was no use arguing, so he raised the troops and they scurried after Kyrana who was already marching up to the man who had served them earlier.

"We are ready to speak with the Hutt," Kyrana announced.

The man smiled politely. "I am sorry to say, but he is not. He is indisposed."

"It is not wise policy to keep Jedi waiting."

"On the contrary," the man replied, "it is not wise to keep _paying_ clients waiting."

But at that moment, another man appeared at his shoulder and spoke a few quick words.

The man smiled. "It appears that his greatness is ready to see you now."

"Perfect," Kyrana said, stepping forward. Abel, trying not to roll his eyes, followed after her.

.

Undubba the Hutt smiled at them. "Insurgents, you say?"

"Yes. And they have captured someone of interest to us."

"It is unusual," the Hutt croaked, "that the Council would send such young padawans for such a request. Do they believe the Hutts are at their beck-and-call?"

His voice reverberated around the hall. Abel winced. He could have to confess. "We are not technically operating on Council orders. Though they know of our whereabouts."

 _Oh no. That seemed accusatory._

But the Hutt just nodded. "Yes, I thought as much. A band of rogue Jedi. Ha!" Undubba broke off into giggles.

"Please, sir, your…greatness," Tiloa said. "We both have a common enemy. All we ask is for any information as to their whereabouts."

"We can hardly give out information like candy on High Day…"

"And you can hardly deny us access to an enemy of the Union!" Tiloa was hot.

"Oh, you are a feisty one, aren't you? Though not as much as that Twi'lek girl over there," he said, pointing to Kyrana. "All set to march into my inner chamber. Ha!" His gaze lingered on Kyrana before settling back to Tiloa. "The Union has no jurisdiction in Hutt Space, as you well know."

"But we can reach an accord," Zek began. "In rescuing our friend, we can disrupt their communications, or –"

"Ugh," Undubba interrupted, "I'm bored of this conversation. I will have you escorted –"

"Wait," Abel said. He had one last card to play, but he had rather hoped to retain it. Their first gift had granted them the audience, but it would take a second to buy cooperation. "We have one more gift for you."

Abel removed the orskú crystal from his pocket. It was one of the very ones his friends had retrieved in the forest of Tython so many moons ago. Undubba's eyes widened deliciously.

"I trust you know what this is?" Abel asked.

The Hutt licked his lips. "It is a Jedi crystal. It is worth millions." It was strictly forbidden for Jedi to trade these for money, but Abel hoped that this was not so much for money, but rather for a life. Abel placed the crystal into Undubba's rough hand.

He held it up once against the light, but brought it quickly back down, satisfied. "If there's one good thing about dealing with Jedi, it's that I know I can trust their word." Abel doubted very much if Undubba believed that, but flattery was like currency to Hutts, so he knew he had indeed scored a point. Perhaps the final one.

"So. Will you help us?"

.

Violet wove through crowds on the sandy avenues, one eye blackened with dried blood on her cheek, as her captors pulled her on a leash. _(On a leash!)_ This was _Mogando_ , the home of Nava Seeda Banda, the Gods Heart Union. Violet had almost thrown up when they led her out onto the beach. It was a land of paradise: a yellow sun, an ocean of deepest blue, and green trees swaying from the billowing breeze. It was to be her jail.

They had left the freighter on the beach and strode into the maze of tents and decrepit cabins that lined the seashore. For the most part, Violet kept her eyes down, but she snuck glances at the people they passed. Kids ran up and down the column of men, shouting and calling to them in their native tongue, and they were laughing. The older ones, though, were wary, their sunken eyes even more gaunt with hunger and stress.

They came to a central square, and Violet thought this was surely their destination, but they marched right on through. She could tell that, while it had once been a place of activity, the buildings were falling apart and refuse littered the ground like flowers. But even so, around the square grew an odd type of tree, markedly different from the wholly green trees near the beach in that these had tough, thin brown trunks and reminded Violet of trees back home. She imagined them waving at her as she passed them by.

After a few minutes of walking through thick jungle, they came upon a great structure like a cathedral, with soaring towers and a presence of strength. All around, smaller buildings flanked it, and crowds of soldiers marched this way and that. They made straight for the great building and on entering it, proceeded down several flights of steps. Only when they were standing in front of a black door did Orlo, who had been giving Violet several pained looks as they walked, turn to talk to her.

"You must not fear," he said in English. He had been learning a little. "You will be safe here. Only do not lie." Violet didn't even so much as nod. "I am sorry," he mumbled.

Violet turned to him, her face blank. The door opened and she walked in.

.

The Colonel was smoking a spice-pipe, pouring over slides of troop movements with his lieutenants when Violet walked in. Unlike most Evocii, he grew a small patch of hair on the crown of his head, which he had fashioned into a sort of ponytail which draped over his right side, though a few hairs now stuck with sweat to his forehead. He wasn't a totally imposing figure, more lank than girth, but his men respected him all the same. He had won them many battles.

He looked up when they entered the room, but he gave no sign that he had expected them, nor that they were interrupting.

"Tagwa?" he asked the captain. As the captain answered, the Colonel glanced at Violet. His eyes were dead. She couldn't tell what he was searching for. But it mattered little to her, as she stared coldly back.

Suddenly, Orlo interrupted and spoke passionately about something, gesturing to Violet and to the sky above. The Colonel barked and Orlo ceased speaking, but he continued to glower at his commander.

The Colonel nodded a few times then paced around the desk, the thuds of his boots the only noise, and he strode up to Orlo. He looked him in the eye.

"Kav-uba holda chuba, wermo?" One soldier laughed, but quickly stifled it.

Orlo nodded solemnly.

The Colonel nodded once more and looked at Violet. This time, she could see him thinking, could see him trying to probe her thoughts.

"Chuba garda klinko." Orlo bowed as the rest of the soldiers laughed heartily. Violet did not like the sound of it.

.

The sun has set, and the only light comes from the hundreds of candles burning, illuminating the great belly of the cathedral. Violet stands before the altar while a man in black robes bows below it. She is chained to the floor, with hundreds of Evocii behind her craning their necks to see the spectacle before them. She glances to her left where the Colonel and a group of other soldiers, Orlo among them, stand beside the dais.

The man in black rises, takes the cup from the altar, and drinks from it. At once, he begins to convulse hideously, and the crowd behind Violet begins to wail. The shrieks echo off the columns, and Violet squeezes her eyes shut from the madness.

A minute later, the man rises from the floor, shaken, but alive. He retrieves the cup and advances toward Violet. He speaks to the crowd then murmurs something to Violet that she cannot understand. But then she is not really meant to. It is only for the god to hear.

Violet squirms away, but the man takes hold of her head and forcefully parts her lips with his rough fingers tasting of salt. The drink passes through.

Fire courses through her stomach, eating away at her insides. She can hardly breathe it is so hot, it is so, so hot…

She comes back up choking, spit sliding off her chin and she lets out a cry. Others in the crowd cry too. The man is unlocking her chains and he pulls her up by her arm. He drags her to the center of the cavernous room where sits a simple pool. Violet sees her reflection in the water, but it's obscured by the firelight that flashes off the ripples.

"Nava svaduba." Then the man in black pushes her in.

The chains on her wrists and ankles still weigh her down and Violet can feel herself being dragged down and down. She tries to kick her way up, but it is fruitless. Her lungs cave in, they begin to convulse…

Then she begins to rise. Even with all her bubbles blown out, she begins to rise, and soon enough, she breaks the surface. And gasping for breath, she hears the priest utter: "Nava gopptula."

.

Violet was brought back to sit next to Orlo as the Colonel took to the stage. Orlo reached out a hand to help her sit, but she shrugged it off. He then reached for something under his seat and emerged with a towel, handing it to her. She was drenched and shivering so she took it with little thought.

"The Colonel is explaining to the people why you are here," he whispered to her, with the translator processing.

The man in black, who Orlo described as a priest, had ceded his prominent position to the Colonel and was now standing off to the side, one with the crowd. Now Violet could make out his threadbare garments and bent posture, and a man who had seemed so menacing before appeared small.

The Colonel's voice was surprisingly hushed for such a man in such a place. It was like a whisper that rolled through the dusty empty air. But he talked in facts and purpose, and no one doubted his strength.

But Violet doubted everything about this creature, from his quiet to his hair. And he frightened her.

"He is an imposing man, our Colonel," Orlo observed, staring at her stricken face.

"Yes," she breathed.

Orlo's eyes flashed. "He always was." He stared moodily at the Colonel.

Violet could not help herself. "Do you not like your leader?"

Orlo smiled in spite of himself. "'Like' has nothing to do with it. There's little choice in it. But he's what we need."

Violet watched as Orlo grimaced and looked to the Colonel, who stood stoically in the background, delivering his deep speech. Orlo snorted and scratched his nose, then spit. He seemed almost human.

Orlo noticed Violet continuing to stare at him. "Don't look at me like that."

"Why not?"

He sneered at her. "Because I said so. And I'm in charge."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"

He hissed like a cat. One of the other leaders glanced over to him, and he subsided and turned back to the Colonel, leaning his head on his hands.

Violet had been taken aback by Orlo's sudden ferocity. She had thought…but no.

The Colonel continued to speak in his low, hushed tones and after a little while, Orlo turned back to her.

"He is almost finished. He is explaining why you are here."

"Why am I here, anyways?" Violet's face flushed. "I serve no purpose for you."

Orlo hesitated. "You will see soon."

At that moment, the Colonel shouted, "Klinkola dowbo sut!" turning to stare at Violet.

"The bird will lead us," Orlo translated, though he did not need to. "You're the bird."

Violet recoiled as the crowd turned to face her. "Lead? Why would I lead you anywhere?"

But her voice was but the squeaks of a mouse as the crowd erupted into a frenzy. Several began to rip their clothes down the seam and others threw themselves onto the ground and wept. One woman began to scratch at her cheeks, rubbing so raw that her flesh turned pink and ran with blood.

Violet tore her eyes away, only to find those gray dead eyes of the Colonel. He jerked his head to his men and they took her arms and hoisted her up onto a hovercart, chaining her to a post in the middle. The cart followed the cadre of leaders as they strode down the center aisle. The wailing crowd wanted to press in, to touch them, but something kept them back; so they threw fistfuls of water and tears as they bowed and knelt.

The girl in white didn't know what was happening now. This whole journey had been one senselessness after another, and at that moment she would have cursed Abel once more, but she was too frightened to think of cursing anyone; all she could think of was the morning that she first learned how to ice skate.

The procession crawled back through the town. Windows flew open and refuse rained down like streamers to welcome the bird of a new dawn, and torches flickered like the candles from the cathedral they had only just left. Older children shouted to the Colonel while the young ones hid under their mothers' skirts. Somewhere, jaded music played, but Violet couldn't tell if it was for their benefit or if it had seeped accidentally out of a window somewhere like all the rest of it.

They continued past the town, back through the jungle and out onto the beach where the night breezes trailed lazily through the palms. Already, the sky seemed a little lighter than it had been before, but Violet thought this was impossible seeing how her night was still so filled with demons.

The Colonel had disappeared from view. Instead, the man in black took over, and as he raised a hand, the crowd fell silent. Only the swaying wind and the lapping waves could be heard.

The man stood facing Violet and uttered something guttural. The people murmured. Swift as a cat, the man whipped from view, but Violet soon sensed him at her back. She heard a rip, then felt the cool breeze grace her back.

Then she understood: her back laid bare, her hands chained to a post…

She began to struggle, to turn with all her strength, but rough hands held her down. "Orlo!" she shouted. "Orlo, why?" She began to sob again, even though she said she wouldn't. A shock ripped through her and she fell limp. The ripping pain would be next.

But it didn't come. Instead, she felt a weight drop onto her, and she felt more keenly the wind buffet her, as if she were a sail on a ship. Then the man in black returned to the front and spoke once more, pointing to the horizon beyond the sea. Violet followed his gaze and saw the lightening of the sky.

 _Dawn comes fast here_ , she thought before the sun broke.

It bathed her in warmth as the crowd erupted into sighs. When Violet finally opened her eyes, she saw hundreds of others trailed on her, or more precisely, slightly behind her. She looked back.

Attached to her back were a set of enormous white wings. She was the bird after all.

"Nala sa chooda!" the man in black shouted.

"Choola yakuta!" the crowd shouted back.

"Nala sa chooda!"

"Choola yakuta!"

"The jewel is still," a hoarse voice whispered in Violet's ear. It was the Colonel. She could smell the strong scent of his perfumed skin mixed with the traces of cigar trailing from his mouth. He was looking not at her, but kept his eyes fixated on the horizon. She wondered if he saw something there she could not, or whether he saw it in the future.

"Am I the jewel?" she asked.

He didn't respond, but said again: "Nala sa chooda, the jewel is still."

"Choola yakuta, the stillness glimmers." He broke off into hacking coughs and a few drops of spit flicked onto Violet's face. He didn't seem to notice as he wiped his face with a handkerchief.

"You lead us to jewel."

And, like a ghost, he disappeared, following the night back up the hill where devils dwell.


	21. Chapter 21: The Lonely Islands

A/N

New Word/Concept:

Targecana

tarda

dol Cailic = dohl KAI-lich (KAI rhymes with "bye")

City of Mirror

Gos Hutta fields

weezers

.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: The Lonely Islands**

.

The smell of starship exhaust always reminded him of the intransigence of death. Sanson Poonek covered his mouth and nose with a crisp handkerchief as his carriage wove in and out of the throng of shoppers exiting the Market of the Angels.

"Eh! Watch it!" his driver shouted at a group that had darted into the dusty street. With his cart stopped, Sanson Poonek allowed his eyes to wander into the market he passed so frequently but had refused to enter for the last half-century. He could only glimpse the endless maze of plazas and tunnels that made up the market, filled with cornucopias of fruits, caged songbirds and scents of roasted almonds that dangled from the stands. His roving eyes eventually settled on a group of beggars in tattered brown robes that hung in the entryway. It was their bearing that caught his eye: they had neither the dejected slump of resignation, nor the furtive tension of a gang, but rather the serenity of ascetics found only in the remote corners of the planet. One of them looked up and Sanson Poonek suddenly thought he beheld the face of death. He was quickly knocked out of his wondering as his driver once again got the carriage moving through the crowds. He adjusted his grip on his documents. He was getting too old to be dealing with crowds at this hour of the morning, but that is what he had done for fifty-three years before, and he wasn't about to stop now, and certainly not in the face of his wife's protestations.

 _Targecana_ had once been one of the most refined planets in Hutt Space. Outside merchants who wanted to bypass the Pabol Hutta hyperlane and the complications of Bootana Hutta would pass through Targecana, Sakifwanna, and Elgit, bringing their hyperbolic ships, exotic fruits, precious spices, death sticks, and distant news from Coruscant and Nal Hutta. These were not your great galactic corporations who paid handsomely for access to the lucrative markets of the Bootana, but the little peddlers of Klatooine or Bothawui that passed as high culture. In those days, the decrepit market was transformed into an elaborate carnival and rechristened the Market of the Angels. The descendants of the early founders of the city, those whose noses and pockets bulged with money from the Hutts, turned their noses up and relocated to the top of Gocola Hill.

The Poonek dol Cailic family was one of these families, and Sanson Poonek dol Cailic was the last in its line, having failed to produce a child. After trying every night for ten years, Sanson and his wife, Almina, abruptly ceased their efforts one night and resigned themselves to the life that the world had set out for them. Every weekday morning, Almina Poonek would set out her husband's _tarda_ which Sanson would sip until halfway done, reading the results of the podraces from the night before, then he would push his cup away, intending to finish it for lunch. He would take his morning carriage to the office, where he would work until lunch time recording processed loans, housing contracts and death certificates. He would return home to each lunch, while Almina busied herself about the house, for she refused to let some Twi'lek slave manage her own affairs, even at the age of sixty-five. Sanson would take his carriage back to work until evening when he returned to domestic life. In his younger days, he would stay out until well into the night every second and fourth day of the week with his social circle, drinking and watching the podraces, always managing to sober up before returning to Almina; but those days were well behind him now.

Sanson Poonek dol Cailic was not only well thought of by the inhabitants of Gocola Hill, but enjoyed the eternal gratification of those in the slums by the Manisma Spaceport for his intervention in the episode of the plums. Sanson Poonek had followed in his father's footsteps and taken over the post as Executor of the Exchequer after studying for four years on Coruscant. He returned with numbers in his head and an inflexible soul which forever marked him as both a reformer and a conservative. He was determined to return Targecana to the glory of the days before the Dead Road became "Dead" and believed with a religious fervor that the main culprit and only solution was bureaucratic efficiency. He then embarked on a crusade to transform the Targecana Central Authority into a well-oiled machine, straightening the messes of his father by standardizing accounts and instituting the system of recording deaths that was still in place: citizens that delivered the bodies of deceased to the city morgue would receive ten credits for their efforts and the left earlobes of each body would be scanned and recorded before the body was burned. While the accuracy of the census improved, the amount of repeat collectors caused the security forces to redouble their efforts and for the TCA to lower their reward to two credits a body.

It was during his public campaign to adopt standards of birth certificates that Sanson Poonek inadvertently deescalated the violent outbreak caused by the embargo on Targian plums. In an effort to appeal to the major corporations of the Galactic Center, the Hutt worlds halted all shipments of the Targecana plums, the lonely planet's only valuable export aside from the rubber from their trees and slaves. While Sanson's friends on Gocola Hill weathered the embargo with a straighter neck and a click of their heels, the poor in the shanties erupted into violence one night on their own factory, believing the whole thing to be a plot by the owners to lower wages and cut costs, and the Hutts, who understood the implicated insult anyways, threw slugs of cannon fire upon them.

Sanson Poonek walked into this mess and was horrified not so much at the loss of life, but at the loss of life caused by such ineptness. He went back to his office in a flurry, even forgoing his lunch with Almina, and began to prepare a report. He compiled statistics on workers employed, revenue generated, and tax breaks received, but also personal anecdotes that bolstered his theories. The site of the spindly man in silver, knocking from door to door in the Manisma slums, was such an odd sight and seemed so heavenly inspired that some began to regard him as a priest. Gangs of boys, who were usually the main culprits of Sanson Poonek's alteration of his census plan, took to tailing the man on his daily journey to guard him against other roving gangs. When it became known that Sanson Poonek's report had swayed the Hutt council by way of sympathy from the Galactic Center, he became a hero in the eyes of these lowly citizens. But when Sanson returned one evening and Almina asked why he had a loaf of bread tucked under his arm, he tossed it immediately into the incinerator, saying, "It probably has Chirgotta."

.

Because of his popularity with the lower class, Sason Poonek wasn't too surprised to see another portion of the rabble waiting in front of his office door. There were about ten of them, dressed in tattered brown cloaks, of varying species. _Ex-Slaves_ , he thought. Targecana was full of them. _Looking for another miracle_.

"I'm sorry…" Sanson sighed as he hobbled toward his office door, head bowed. "There is nothing I can do for you. I would suggest taking it up with –"

"We look not for handouts." It was a human who had spoken. A gaunt, bearded man. Looked more like a shadow of a man than a man. Or, was he a boy? They all looked rather young. A gang, perhaps? But then Sanson Poonek recognized with sudden clarity the strange group that sat before the entrance to the Market of the Angels and the face like the specter of death.

"Handouts or not, I do not allow myself to be cornered by strangers at the foot of my own door. Good day!"

He started to push past them, but one of them uttered a phrase: "Nala sa chooda."

Sanson Poonek froze mid-reach of his door panel. His hand remained outstretched, vibrating slightly like the delicate wings of a butterfly. He stared straight ahead into the grayness of his door. Without turning, he croaked, "What do you want of me?"

"Just to talk," the human said.

Sanson Poonek led them into the room and collapsed shaking into his desk chair. The strength of his youth had long left him and his thin frame rattled as if his bones were already shorn of their flesh. His eyes darted at the cloaked figures as they spread into the room like a disease and checked every nook. Though he shook, his voice was steady and low.

"If you are going to steal from me, you should kill me first, because I do not want to witness the end of my life's work."

The human answered him. "We do not kill you."

But Sanson did not so much hear what the human said as much as _how_ he said it. He spoke High Huttese rather than the low Evoci dialect native to Targecana, and even then, his accent and vocabulary was limited.

"You are not from here?" he asked lightly. But the human ignored him.

Sanson turned to the Ortolan nearest him. "There is a recording device over in that corner," he said in Basic. The Ortolan pulled up, but not before he had already headed in the direction Sanson Poonek had mentioned.

"The game is up," Poonek called, his confidence growing, "you are clearly Basic speakers and are not native to Hutt Space. What do you want, and how do you come to use that phrase against me?"

Sanson Poonek smiled as the group of seven looked at one another at a loss. "Here," he offered, gesturing to the cove of couches, "take a seat." Sanson pressed the button as they passed warily to the seats. "Now: what can I do for you?"

The Togruta spoke up. "We would like to see your records of Targecana ship logs and manifests."

"That is public information."

"Most of it, yes. But not those of the terrorist organization operating in the region."

Poonek cleared his throat. "I do not have specific –"

"You knew the phrase," the Togruta shot back. "If you do not cooperate, the Hutt council will gladly –"

"Your threats do not frighten me," Sanson Poonek responded coldly. "The Hutts are assured of my loyalty and have always been satisfied with my work."

"They may call that into question when they realize you are privy to information that even they are unaware of."

Sanson smiled again. "Oh, the Hutts are aware of much more than you could possibly imagine. I don't know who you are, but you are undoubtedly not in their confidences, whatever they may have told you."

"We are proudly not in their confidence." It was the young Twi'lek girl. "But we know, Sanson Poonek dol Cailic, that you are in those of this shadow organization."

"Then you put your faith in the wrong information, for I am not."

Suddenly, she was behind him, gripping his neck with her arms.

"Go on," he choked, "at my age, there's no better reason to die." His trembling voice betrayed him once more. Nevertheless, the girl released him and sauntered back to her chair.

As he rubbed his neck, the human spoke once more to him. "What is the meaning of that phrase, at least answer that." The not-quite-man leaned forward, his face pushed out into the light for the first time, and Sanson noted his wide eyes. He knew that look from his no-good brother-in-law. He never could trust it.

At that moment, the guards that Sanson had called ten minutes ago burst through the door, armed with electric rods and security droids. The intruders sprang up, but realized resistance was futile.

As they were leaving, Sanson called out to the human: "If you have to ask, you will never understand."

.

Deaf to the suggestions of his colleagues, Sanson Poonek remained at the office, even working through lunch until the evening when he took his carriage home. By that point, rain was falling in a great curtain across the old city, and the usual charming reflections of the lamp lights on the streets were muted by the sheer volume of rain. Sanson took no notice until he reached home and observed casually: "The city must be conserving the lights."

It wasn't until his nightly bath that it happened. Sanson Poonek had taken his dinner with Almina and gone to prepare himself for bed while she cleared the table. His bath prepared, he dunked his head under to rid his hair of rain, and when he emerged he beheld the mirror which reflected the figure illuminated in his window.

Almina heard the scream and immediately dropped the glass she was holding and hobbled as fast as she could toward the shout of her husband. When she opened the door, she found several strangers standing boldly in the bathroom, their cloaks soaked and dripping, looking completely bemused at her husband who was thrashing about in the tub, eyes closed, raving about the Angel of Death who had finally arrived to take him.

"Open your eyes, you old woman, they're just children." Almina was unusually terse with Sanson, not so much because her husband was a coward or even because there were strangers in her house, but because she would have to suffer the humiliation of dying in a bathroom.

But one of them held up her hands. "Please, we are only here to talk." It was the familiar tone of the Togruta that finally pulled Sanson out of madness.

"Ah, you are the same ones from this morning! How did you escape?"

"With relative ease," the Togruta shot back, "but they will be looking for us, I suspect, and we have no intention of leaving here until we get answers."

Sanson understood the implication and now new they had the skill to do it. Common criminals did have the skill to escape Targecana security.

"My only request," Almina interjected, "it to allow my husband to clothe himself and to move to the sitting room."

The group of seven, who by this time had all clambered into the bathroom, gestured to Sanson to get out. They followed Almina to the sitting room, and two in the group quickly closed the blinds. Sanson thought it odd that they allowed him the freedom to sit proudly in his own armchair, but he took whatever they would give him and mustered up the domineering demeanor of his youth.

"Now, see here, I do not –"

"We do not have time for you to bluster," the Nautolan said, cutting him off. "We have wasted too many days following stale leads. We need to know where we can find this shadow organization, or where they would take a captive. It is a matter of life and death."

Sanson's mouth curved into a smile. "In Targecana, everything is a matter of life and death."

"I take it you are not in favor of this organization," the Twi'lek girl said, standing in the corner. "Well, we are not either. We seek to undermine it. Do you not seek the same thing?"

Sanson twitched. "My personal affiliation or lack thereof has no bearing. I know nothing and cannot help you."

"You knew the phrase," the human said, leaning forward. Thus far, he had remained silent. "And you knew its meaning. You could not help but reveal this as we were dragged away."

Sanson cursed himself. "I know rumors only…"

"We're not interested. We want a location."

"I don't –"

"You are meticulous with your records, you know every coming and going of every ship, and you have been shielding the comings and goings of terrorists for twenty years!"

Sanson stared at him silently for several seconds. Then, grasping the sides of the armchair, he slowly pulled himself up to his full height. He teetered as if drunk and his voice came out ragged: "I have never, in all my years, been accused of something so low. I am, and have always been, a conservative!"

At that moment a loud bang echoed through the house. Two of the seven flanked the sides of the entryway, preparing to get the jump on the security forces. But they needn't have bothered as Quoto Maranza came stumbling in, cheeks aflame and drunk with the passion of a flower.

"Haallooo! _The staaaars are twinkling, and so I keep singing of a land, of a land that I am dreeeaaaming of_ …"

"Slime, tail, and heart," Almina cursed, throwing her hands up, "what more could this night bring?"

"Quoto!" Sanson shouted.

Quoto, who had been examining his belt buckle, looked up. "Eh?"

"Sit!"

Quoto suddenly realized that he was involved in something, but his drunken mind couldn't process what the presence of the seven brown strangers could mean. Meanwhile, the seven strangers were at a loss: they looked at each other quizzically, unsure of how to handle the strange domestic standoff taking place before them.

Finally, the Tholothian asked politely, "I'm sorry, but who is this?"

"Quoto," Sanson spat. "My brother-in-law. Who is too old and too poor to continue drinking as he does."

"Eh?" Quoto responded. "It's _because_ I'm old and poor that I drink. What else do I have? Women do not want me."

"And they want you even less now, brother," Sanson growled.

"You could help a brother out, brother," Quoto complained.

"Enough," Almina said, exasperated. "He thinks we're as rich as the City of Mirror," she complained to the portrait on the wall.

"Ahhh…" Quoto sighed, a dreamy look dawning on his face.

"Here we go," Sanson complained. "Wife, when will you learn to stop mentioning –"

"It was a favorite expression of my mother's, it's not my fault he always –"

"The City! The City! Streets paved with crystal, shining in the moon…"

The Nautolan looked quizzically at him, then back at the couple. "What is he raving about?"

"A children's story," Sanson answered curtly. "A myth."

"A myth it is not!" Quoto cried. "Those of us noble enough to seek it know its truth! The people who lived here before us, they were master builders, shining creatures of light. Rich beyond measure."

"A fool's quest for a foolish man who believes himself to be a hero," Sanson summed up scathingly. "That is the life of Quoto Maranza."

"Our earliest explorers found them. But we lost them, and our quest to find them has been in vain. And I cannot find the Union either! Where did I put it – Ah, that's right, it's not a…thing." Quoto continued blubbering into the couch, but the human brought him back.

"The Union? The Galactic Union?"

Sanson choked on his breath as Quoto answered him. "Eh? No, no, the other union, the good one. Chooda yada and all that…" Quoto again began to fall asleep, but the human was on him, wrenching him back awake. "Hey, what –"

"This union. What's the full name?"

Something seemed to click in Quoto. "The union?"

"Yes, the union."

Quoto's eyes suddenly lit up. "Ahhh, the Union, Nava Seeda Banda, the Gods Heart Union! You are one of them?"

"What? No. What do you know about it?"

"Quoto!" The hiss this time came from Almina. She stood up abruptly and released a torrent of words. "Ignore his babbling, he drinks too much, his words fall like the petals of the flowers in his garden, he doesn't know what he is talking about, if you would only leave decent folk like us alone maybe we could all get sleep tonight! Come, Quoto, let's get you home –"

Quoto and the human protested at the same time.

"The union, home," Quoto began, "that's why I came here. A union…person said that Almina you had to do something, some people asking about them at Sanson, they met him at the office…"

Almina stood coldly, her eyes fixed on the floor. Sanson leaned forward, staring at his wife calculatingly. The intruders didn't move, waiting for the truth to unfold. Sanson cleared his throat.

"What does he mean by –"

"Ay, you are always pestering me about things, ever since we've been married," Almina complained in Huttese, moving about the room, straightening objects. "Always questioning me. I've never brought up your affair with that Manisma woman, no, no, not Almina, but now you've forced me to with your indelicate accusations!"

"Almina…" Sanson growled with more certainty. He knew his wife only lashed out when she felt cornered by fear. "Why do the NSB call on you?"

Almina noticed the intruders turned towards her and she gazed at the young Twi'lek girl and in a rare moment of weakness she found herself remembering the other Twi'lek girl from her childhood who would accompany her to the Market of the Angels where the two of them once sat for portraits like two schoolgirls, and it was this memory more than anything that finally forced Almina to tell her husband the secret she had kept for nearly thirty-three years.

It happened ten years into their marriage. Quoto, Almina's errant younger brother, was in his prime and filled with the idealism of a martyr. In those days, revolutionary organizations flared up and flamed out like mayflies, so when the security forces began to fail to capture the culprits behind bombings and the letters N-S-B began to be whispered in alleys, boys like Quoto started to see their destiny coming to its head. But Quoto was too brash. He and his other friends from the university, who were asked to prove their loyalty through secrets gathered from their reconnaissance of the area around the university, took it too far one day when the owner of a soup shop refused to take down the picture of the Huttese Council which hung above the bar in his restaurant and Quoto declared him an enemy of the revolution, shouting at his comrades to seize the man and instituting martial law in the student district. Their regime only lasted twenty-nine hours, but Quoto still had time to hand down forty-three mandates, one of which, the mandate that all men must wear a black cockade and women a yellow one, continued to this day, at least in part, in that yellow cockades continued to be worn in the area by prostitutes.

While all of Quoto's companions were executed, he was rescued and brought to safety, though he knew not how. The government never knew that it had been he, Quoto, who had led the rebellion, for this was before the methods of identification by Sanson Poonek dol Cailic were instituted. Quoto believed in his heart that it had been the NSB who saved him – though they never called on him again – and he spent the rest of his years washing away his memories with liquor and declaring loudly for all to hear, "Long live the Union!" and none were ever sure which one he was talking about.

None, that is, except for Almina Maranza. For the Pure Hearts Union became interested in young Quoto when they realized that he was the brother-in-law of the feared Sanson Poonek, the man who controlled the knowledge of Targecana. But after his stunt that had ended like all the others, they called instead on Almina, delivering her brother as a token of good will. Shadows visited her in the afternoon, when they were sure Sanson would be at work, and gave her a simple choice: to infiltrate her husband's records and mask the dealings of the NSB, or find her husband and brother dead.

Once Almina finished the backstory, everything else fell into place for Sanson and the seven intruders.

In the silence, all Sanson could manage was: "Damn. Their fingers are everywhere."

"If they are everywhere," the human said, getting up, "it should be easier to find them." He turned to Almina. "Will _you_ help us?"

But before she could answer, Quoto jumped to his feet. "Of course she will!" If one didn't know any better, it would seem that he had shaken off all remnants of sleep and drink. "My sister dare not refuse to bring another soul to brotherhood of the Union."

She sneered at him. "I'm not one of them, you drunkard. And they're not either. They want to destroy it."

Quoto blinked. He was the type to leap to the side of any cause if he could detect something noble about it, regardless of his affiliation. "Destroy?"

But the human turned once more to Almina and met her eyes. "It is not its destruction per se that we seek, but we are its enemies because it has taken something from us. They have kidnapped my friend, a girl who had no dealings with them before. And we have heard nothing from them. Can you help me bring her back?"

"If you haven't heard from them about a ransom, she's already dead," Sanson observed. "It is the way in Hutt Space."

"Ay, it has always been the same with you," Almina broke off, shouting at her husband, "it is this way, this is how it is done… Maybe she's not dead. You do not know anything."

Her husband held up his hands, taken aback by her sudden onslaught.

"But you!" she said, turning her finger on the human. "I still do not know why I should trust you. Who are you?"

The human sighed and looked at the others. A few of them nodded, and the human stood up, ruffling his cloak and producing something from it.

"Does this answer your question?"

The lightsaber sparked green.

.

With a great sight, Violet collapsed on the mat, feeling its coarse hairs brush her cheek, but she couldn't have cared less. After another day of backbreaking work, she thought she could have slept on rock.

She had assumed that after the devilish sunrise ceremony, the torture would begin. She still didn't know what they needed to know, but she was sure that that was her role: to provide information. She had been surprised then when they led her back to the camp compound and into a great barracks room and pointed to a mat on the floor. They had allowed her to sleep.

But several hours later, as the sun was setting, she had awoken from the gentle shaking by another revolutionary in the barracks. Violet remembered that first time she saw Massa: still bleary-eyed from sleep, she could just make out his canine-like snout and owl eyes which gave the impression of a great puppy asking for a treat. Instead, the Klatooinian had helped her up to follow the exodus of the others out of the barracks. Over the weeks that followed, Massa never ceased helping her as they spent hour after hour cleaving dedlanite from the ground.

Massa had been born of a mother he never knew and sold into slavery before his memories began. His immense size for his age made him valuable, and he was sent to Nar Shaddaa to train as an assassin. But before he had even reached maturity, he was dismissed as unsuitable due to his meek nature. He was shipped off to Gos Hutta to work the fields, and it was there that he met other Klatooinians and learned of the honor of the elders, the sage leaders of Klatooine. But as he listened to the reverence with which his fellows spoke, his heart hardened towards these elders he never knew. They did not speak for him, he told them. The other Klatooinians beat him for his insolence. But as Massa weathered the beating with fortitude, his fellows accepted him as a worthy Klatooinian. Massa began to feel connected as he had never been before, part of a tribe that had been denied to him his whole life. He listened to the legends of his people, and slowly he began to understand that his elders were not the cause of blame, but were suffering under a false understanding that the Hutts were the "Ancients" that their tales revered, a mistake that kept them all in bondage. Massa completely reversed his views and threw himself into the legends and culture of his people, a people he had never really known before. He imbibed wisdom like water and sold himself to his brothers, believing his diligence and strength could deliver a Klatooine-on-Gos Hutta. But it was his own mistake that nearly cost him his life. A guard heard him espousing wisdom one night and had him brought before the boss. But before the boss could enact the execution, the other Klatooinians revolted and executed the boss instead. As Massa raised his head, one of them extended a hand: "What are legends if not the people?" Most of them died that day, but some like Massa were able to find a way off the planet and away from retaliation. It was several days later when Massa came upon the Colonel rounding up young eager revolutionaries.

"He was the savior that was promised," Massa had said. "Not a only dreamer, but a hardened man who had weathered far more beatings than me. The kind of man you could count on to deliver promise. He sees the world clearly, as it is, but also how it may be. The prophetic soldier."

And so Massa gave his loyalty, which was stronger and more binding than links of Kesslian iron, to his new commander, and the promise of a tribe.

As Violet lay prostrate on her mat, Massa knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her back. His warm, steady hand was always a comfort for her, so she continued to lie there listening to her own breathing. Eventually, she sat up.

Since joining the NSB, Massa's muscles had receded somewhat and been replaced by a healthy layer of fat, so that when Violet hugged him she always had the impression of hugging a great bear.

"Will it ever end?" she asked, breaking the hug.

Massa sighed and tilted his head. "I do not know." They spoke in a strange combination of the Low Huttese dialect, Basic, and English.

"I…I am so tired."

"I know. So am I." He reached over and patted her leg which was crossed over the other. "But we will be alright."

Violet smiled a little. She appreciated Massa's brand of comfort, which never felt forced and always seemed to reach her somehow. She had found in Massa something unlooked for in such a place: a friend.

"I do not think you are right, though," Violet countered. "How could I be alright?"

Massa was silent for a moment as he thought. Then he spoke. "The wisdom of my elders holds a saying," Massa began, "'You are worth more than just yourself.' For you, I think this means that as long as someone cares for you, you will be alright."

Violet leaned against Massa's shoulder as he continued to speak soothingly. Sometime later, the spell was broken as the others burst through the door in high spirits from the dinner which Violet and Massa had forgone.

"Klinko!" Violet turned to find the priest in the open doorway as the last of the workers trickled past. He beckoned to her. With a comforting look from Massa, she rose and hobbled over to the priest.

Klinko. The bird. That's what they called her here; no Violet. None of them had even bothered to learn that name, except some of the other workers. And the priest, sort of, thought he was in a category of his own. He insisted on calling her "Klinko" because he thought it some sort of pet name.

Rondogo Koredo was one of the Evocii from distant Kor Oktanivii in the Bootana Hutta, a sparse desert planet. He was a strong child. Whenever his older brother and he would wrestle, Rondogo would always win. One time, his mother entered their hovel to find kernels littering the floor and blue milk seeping into the frayed carpet; Rondogo had bashed his brother's head into the cabinet. He was also brazen enough to tackle the _weezers_ , the great slugs that slithered through the desert. Of course, the foolish child was often bitten; the first time, his mother tended to him for two nights straight and he fought off death with the tenacity that only a stubborn child could possess. By the fifteenth time, not so much as a bump. This is why he always told the women he spent the night with that he had conquered death. It was his brother that died. He was tormented by visions and he was found one morning by a poor merchant who stumbled upon his mangled body below a cliff side. Whether the visions told him to do it or whether he had wanted them to stop was not something Rondogo could answer. But when she saw the body, all his mother said was: "Only death could come from visions." So that he might not suffer the same fate, though there never was ever any reason to suspect he would, his mother sent Rondogo to the district seminary to train as a priest. He was not quite ten when he arrived, but he still held deep-seated beliefs in his own ability to conquer anything. The priests beat that out of him. "The heart of God," they said, "is not a paradise, but a maelstrom. He does not want us to win, but to suffer." For a time, Rondogo began to believe it. He endured the beatings, he knelt until his knees turned blue, he cried to accept his fate. It was during these early years that his growth stunted; after the priests found him forcing the head of another seminarian boy into a fountain, they denied him food for three days. And, fearing his strength, they continued to underfeed him for three years, keeping him in a permanent state of visible ribs and chronic diarrhea. When he emerged from the seminary eight years later, he was like a dead leaf: tethered to no one, crumbling, and ready to be blown where they willed. His bishop blew him to the remote village of Cananduga, a scrap of a town not unlike his home. For the first year, he put what little effort he still had into his ministry: he cleansed people of Marks of the Force, he spoke of the greatness of the God and Godsheart, and he sacrificed all he could to prevent the sandstorms from ravaging their little shacks. But he turned black inside. Then, everything changed for Rondogo when Zandrona walked into his church one afternoon. Her mother had never taken her three daughters to the church before because she thought the priest too young and weak, but this is probably what piqued young Zandrona's interest. The only woman in Rondogo's early life had been his mother, and ever since he had only seen them in passing, and usually they were old and worn down by sand and time. But Zandrona was a diamond in the rough, in her time of flowers, and Rondogo suddenly found something that pierced through the haze of constant death. So when Zandrona came to the church one night and found the short wisp of a man clinging to the altar for support, Rondogo never looked back. Even when Zandrona's mother found them out several months later and helped bring about the disrobing of Rondogo the Priest, Rondogo did not look back. He bounced from village to village for thirty years, seeking the beauty that was promised in the face of Zandrona. But as the sands of time wore on, he was forced to reckon with the possibility that it was as fruitless an endeavor as his priesthood had been. He became despondent and his nights turned habit instead of joy. He began to drink. It was during one of these nights when he challenged a man to an arm wrestle, something a sober Rondogo never would have done had he realized the band of followers the man had. But as he struggled, he shouted his common refrain that he had conquered death. The man beat him swiftly, slamming his hand against the table, and said, "But you can't conquer me." That was how Rondogo Koredo came to follow the Colonel and the Nava Seeda Banda.

But he was still just called the Priest. When the followers discovered that he had once been a priest, they made him their official pastor, since no other had been willing to die to join their cause. And they could never get over the irony of such a lecherous drunkard as a priest. But sure as any new convert, the Priest had changed during his six years as a member of the NSB.

The Priest smiled toothily at Violet as they walked from the barracks along the forest path. "The Colonel is in a good mood today."

Violet didn't respond. She knew it didn't really matter what mood the Colonel was in. Besides, the Priest would tell her anyways.

"A major shipment was able to slip past the Hutts. They thought they were good and cornered, but they braved the edge of the Godstorm and the Hutt security failed to find them."

He was just trying to make conversation, but Violet simply didn't care.

"But of course you wouldn't care about that."

 _Point taken._

"But you might be curious to know another bit of news the Colonel has for you."

That sounded ominous. And Violet grew even more worried when the Priest refused to say anything more. Instead, he led her down the dim-lit steps, past the two sets of guards and into the Colonel's cabin.

The Colonel was in his hammock, reading. Put him on a beach and he could have been a commercial. He had taken off his uniform shirt and boots, leaving his starched olive pants and a baggy undershirt. When Violet appeared at his door, he rose and gestured to a chair at his table. They had performed this ritual too many times, and as always the Colonel took the seat opposite her. He leaned towards her, placing his elbows on the table and folding his hands as if praying, and fixed her with his watery, soulless eyes.

"This…northern forest? Cah-nah-dah, you say it? How big?"

This is how these sessions would go. The Colonel would ask Violet questions about Earth and she would answer with as little information as possible, and the Colonel would identify more avenues of questions for the next time. During the last session, Violet had told him that her country was too populated for he and his people to remain hidden; it wouldn't work. But when he asked her general questions about traveling, she had let slip that she had gone to a forest in Canada, where few others lived.

She cursed herself. Why could she just lie? But she knew she couldn't. She was never good at it; the only thing she could successfully lie about was pretending that she was fine. And now the Colonel knew she couldn't lie, so he trusted her words. So she had to talk. Because if she didn't talk…well, they could get her to talk.

"It's big."

"But what is its size?"

"I don't know."

The Colonel nodded once.

"Too big to count."

Violet gave him a hard stare. "I couldn't count at all, small or large. I wouldn't know."

The Colonel cleared his throat. "Our island here was once large. But the sea swallowed it up, piece by piece. But Mogando, it has not touched. To prolong the pain, surely."

No doubt, with most other Mogandans, this would have been a longer story, but the Colonel was never one to speak two words when one would do.

The Colonel reached for his mug of _tarda_ , a dark drink with the bitter taste of black coffee and the consistency of syrup. Most Evocii only mixed it with other sweeter drinks, but he drank it straight. He placed the mug back and sighed.

"You have a sea on your home. Yes? What is like it there, next to it?"

Even though he often did this, Violet was still always taken aback by his sudden questions about the mundane.

"Yes, we do. We have beaches, if that's what you mean. Like you do here."

"But the sea does not swallow you."

"Sometimes, and slowly."

"Sometimes, and slowly. What you mean?"

"Sometimes storms and earthquakes make the ocean rise and flood the coast. People living there often die. And slowly, the ocean is getting larger and land is disappearing." Violet finished there.

"So," the Colonel whispered, "it is not so different from us."

Violet looked blankly.

"But," he said, strength returning to his voice, "what makes the sea move?"

Violet shrugged. "The weather."

"You can predict it then?"

"Usually."

He seemed happier to hear this, for he nodded several times rather than his customary once.

"Is the sea not an enemy?"

Violet frowned at this. "It depends, I guess. If you happen to be caught in a storm, yes. But most people like the sea. But…we don't think of it as an enemy or ally. It's just…the sea. It has waves to ride, waves that crash, fish to eat, so many fish… It's a whole world."

But the Colonel focused on one sentence. "People like it?"

Violet opened her mouth, then closed it. Why did he care? "Well, yeah. There are fun things to do at the beach."

The Colonel simply stared at her to continue.

"Going there with your family or friends, setting up umbrellas and diving into the waves, soaking up the sun and reading in the shade, walking the boardwalk with an ice cream…" Violet was flooded with images of her own trips: the time when she was five and her whole extended family got a house and she got stung by a jellyfish, so her mother brought her back to the house and they made macaroni and cheese and played go-fish, just the two of them…the time when she was sixteen and the car broke down so they had to carry all those boogie boards in their arms every day, chafing her underarms…the time when she fell asleep and woke up so red she was embarrassed to go to school the next week like a peeling onion…the time when she got caught by the riptide and her dad had to come out to save her…the time her cousin caught a fish, the time they ate pesto, the time they got a pool, the time it rained, the time…

Violet only then realized that tears were seeping down her cheeks. Once she realized this, she closed her eyes to stem the tide and let out a breath like a whale out of his blowhole. She refused to wipe her tears, but hardened her eyes and looked out.

The Colonel's expression hadn't changed, to pity or disgust. His eyes, as ever, were vacant.

"Memories, like the sea, hold much we do not see. But they have such power to move."

He drained his mug of tarda and slammed the table three times. The door opened and a guard appeared to escort Violet out.

As she was leaving, she suddenly whirled around and spoke: "You do not plan to harm my home."

Even she didn't know if this was a question, a realization, or a threat.

The Colonel sniffed once, and picked something out of his teeth. Then he looked up. He nodded several times, acknowledging and pondering what she said.

Violet left without an answer.

.

Orlo was waiting for her.

They left together and headed for the trees. They trudged along one of the carved dirt paths that crisscrossed the grassy headland of the headquarters which overlooked the town and the bay beyond it. Violet could spy the glittering ocean with its sprinkled islands dotting to the horizon. Perhaps she could send a postcard home: "Greetings from the Mogandan Isles! Filled with white sand beaches, cool breezes, and slavery." Or perhaps not.

Their path entered the forest. Green vines twisted and hung from trees and the undergrowth spiraled up into the canopy so that one can hardly tell the difference in the green blanket. One of the yellow-and-red songbirds flitted through the trees. Orlo spied it and spoke for the first time.

"There were originally only three of them. My father, Je Orlana Bootana, traded his speeder for them. He said there was no need to have a speeder anymore since he moved to a land covered with trees, but that one would always have need for birds." Violet looked up, expecting to see a smile, or maybe a sneer, but she saw nothing but remembering. "But they bred so well and so quickly that he was forced to release them from their cage. But before long, yellow and red feathers covered every spare inch of our house. I was only three at the time, but I remember. My mother had finally had enough and one morning, before my father had awoken, she opened all the windows. The people of the town said that they thought dawn had come early because of the yellow and red that filled the sky."

Violet looked curiously at him. "But how where there so many?"

"It is how things are in Mogando."

The path led to a river. Violet sat on the rock she usually took and stared into the small pool created by eddies at the river's edge. Orlo jumped up to a higher rock and remained standing, staring upstream.

"What did the Colonel have for you today?" The way he spit out the word "colonel," made Violet ask a question she had asked once before.

"Why do you hate him so much and still follow him?"

Orlo was silent for so long, Violet assumed he was ignoring the question, but then he spoke. "I don't hate him. I think he's caught in whirlpool without any hope of escape and I don't want him to drag the rest of us down."

Violet huffed sardonically. "Well, then, I know the feeling."

Orlo turned back to Violet and his face was pained. "It was never meant to be like that. For you, at least."

"So you've told me. But here we are."

He had no response to that. The roaring rapids filled their silence, and Violet continued to stare at her reflection in the water. She had always been thin, but her face was truly gaunt now; her eyes were sunken, her cheeks rough from sweat and her hair was split and limp. She could have passed for an Evoci but for her small nose. She pulled her face away from the water.

"So. What do you have planned for me tomorrow?"

She could tell that he resented the change of subject to something so mundane. Although he was assigned to be her handler, he seemed to resent the job. Though if it was because he felt it beneath him or some other reason, she didn't know.

"You're to continue mining," he sighed, looking away.

"Are you coming too?"

"No."

"Then why do you care?"

Orlo looked at Violet aghast. "Because, you shouldn't be _mining_ , you should be –" But he cut himself off, realizing he had betrayed too much, and turned away. By the time he returned to look at her, she was gazing intently at him, perched on her rock like a mermaid.

At her look, all the frustration melted away and Orlo suddenly felt tired. He sat down, his legs crisscrossed, and put his head in his hands. Seconds crept by and still Violet did not say anything, waiting for Orlo.

"The day I remember most about my father," Orlo began, "is when he brought my brother and me to discover fire. It was a traveling group of entertainers, and they danced with fire. Even with our automated stove tops and electric street lamps, I had never before seen an open flame. And as I stood entranced, my mouth hanging open, my father leaned down to me and whispered, 'That's the secret to success. That's the thing that keeps us living.' I can still feel his warm hand on my shoulder, his sparkling smile and breath smelling of salt."

Orlo bit his lip. "I took his words to mean too much. I was only nine years old, but I threw myself into learning the secrets of fire. The first time I made a flame, I tried to eat it, thinking that if it keeps us living, it must be like food." He shook his head. "My mouth was blistered for months, and even now it bears scars. My mother, Surula, smacked my head for my foolishness even as my mouth burned, and smacked my father for putting ideas into my head. It's how I earned the name 'Fire-Eater.'"

"But still I persisted. I tested fire all I could to understand its secrets, and even when my father tried to dissuade me and tell me it was all nonsense what he had said, I attributed his words to divine revelation and continued my search. I took over the back room and converted it into a laboratory of sorts where I would perform my experiments. My mother lamented that she had produced _two_ sons who were consumed with solitude, for my older brother, who would never say more than a word at dinner, had just left our home, not to return for another eight years. And with my father, Je Orlana Bootana, always at work on some project, Surula began to invite other ladies of the town over to keep her company, so that soon the whole of Mogando knew of my obsession with fire. Despite their confused looks, I kept myself devoted to my practice for two years."

"But it all came crashing down the day that Pulgo the Beggar was tried. What happened was this: there was a misunderstanding between Pulgo and a Hutt official – for this was in the couple of years when the Hutts had sent someone to become our mayor – where the official thought that the old Pulgo was trying to escape paying a tax, failing to realize that Pulgo was too poor to pay anything. But while the official harassed the old beggar, people from the town came to his aid and somehow in the scuffle the official ended up dead, butchered with a knife. We went down to see Pulgo one last time, for he had always been kind to – well, everyone – but also to me, giving me little fishes that he fashioned out of clay he found from the eastern cliffs. But we stayed too long, for I saw the mayor ordered him burned to death, watched as the flames I had studied for so long lick the heels of a man so innocent that the crowd did not believe he could possibly die until it was done; they half expected a wind from the Heart to carry him away to safety. For some reason, the image of his tortured face echoed within me far more than my own pain, and it was only then that I realized that fire was only the secret to success in its success of death; that it's the thing that keeps us living because it is the thing that brings death; it was only then that I began to understand the truth of the world, living in the shadow of the Godsheart, that we look upon the face of death so that we might cling to life."

.

The babbling of the river was the only punctuation of their breathing. Violet didn't fully know what to make of Orlo's story, but she understood the suffering inherent in its telling.

"I am sorry."

"So you see," Orlo said, "why I often remember the happy day when my father took me to discover fire. I was filled with wonder then, with warmth from my father. And when I look at you…all I can think is that you will be another casualty of fire, like Pulgo; that the NSB, something that should be a light in the universe, will consume itself and too many others with it."

Violet's voice was hushed with trepidation: "Then…don't let it. Take me away from here and back home."

She hadn't tried to appeal to Orlo like this before, but she thought the time was ripe. He sees her now.

And for a moment, she thought he was going to. His eyes lit with determination and he set his jaw towards the horizon. But then he closed his eyes.

"No," he said, defeated, "I can't. You are too important for the cause. The Colonel would never forgive me."

"You don't need the forgiveness of the Colonel!" Like a wave breaching over rock, Violet's voice rang out as she stood. "Is your cause so noble that I can be sacrificed over and over again?"

Orlo hung his head. "It has to be. You can't understand…before the Colonel came, the Hutts had infiltrated our town. Mogando was supposed to be a haven, but somehow they found their way through the maze of nebulae. And they thought to rule us here, and they did. But the Colonel snuffed them out. He gave us hope; and not only us, but all Evocii across the galaxy, all people living under the slavery of the Hutts. But if there is a place free from them, a place free from the plague that has haunted us for millennia…we must take it."

"I don't believe that," Violet said with finality. "I don't believe you have to take in order to live. And I don't believe that you owe the Colonel everything. He's hardly a shell of a person," she said bitterly.

Orlo looked sadly at her. "You don't understand…"

Orlo felt something light grace his shoulder, like a bird landing to rest. Violet's hand was small, but warm. He looked into her eyes, so full of longing and pain, but with such overwhelming goodness that could make even the dead catch their breath.

"The Colonel. He's my brother."


	22. Chapter 22: Clouding Climes

A/N

New Word/Concept:

Sabacc mostly based on Han Solo movie, the "Corellian Spike" version

Little has been written about what Langoonans are actually like, so I expanded

Droot

Lusra fish

Derjak

Gundals

.

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Clouding Climes**

.

Day thirty-nine of rain. From the moment that the Colonel had drained his third cup of tarda and looked out the window as the first drops fell, it had not let up for one instant. But that was just the way on Mogando; one learned to deal with its capriciousness.

At first, Violet welcomed the change. The daily drills of the soldiers ceased, and soon enough even the town stopped its activities as everyone kept themselves walled in to escape the deluge. Children ran outside and splashed in the puddles that filled the central square. Fuldo Murma, the dentist, had built his home in a depression so that by the fourth day of the torrents his house had become so waterlogged that it filled to the brim like a fishbowl, and he had to paddle his dining room table to move from room to room. But his fortunes turned when he realized he could take advantage of the schools of fish that floundered in his living room, and soon enough he was making money hand over fist with his sale of fish.

Violet's fortunes seemed to improve as well. The workers remained in their barracks, and since they were at the top of a hill, their floors stayed mostly dry. She spent her time playing a kind of card game called sabacc with the others; and since they had no money to bet with, they bet with secrets.

From Massa, she learned that he had once visited a brothel on Toydaria – though he didn't partake – and that he had tried his hand at poetry when he was younger. Violet made him recite some, and though she couldn't understand its intricacies due to language barriers, she understood that angst transcended planets and species as well.

While Violet already knew many of Massa's secrets, she learned more about the others. Kerkin was a Nimbanel, a Hutt world species known for their logical abilities, which they used in great games to test each other to determine their worth. But Kerkin was hopelessly illogical, to the point where she earned the ire of their team leader for misplacing shipments or chatting while on the job. After playing the game of secrets, Violet discovered Kerkin's biting sardonicism and Violet understood that her vivacious nature was not the result of enthusiasm for the cause, but rather a defense against the fear of inadequacy and exhaustion that had plagued her all her life. Kerkin, like all Nimbanels, had been trained from a young age to calculate and equivocate, but her natural talent of discovering colorful connections and pure fun was treated as a disease to be bred out of her, but she never lost her stubborn will. So when she reached maturity and was no longer beholden to her parents' wishes, she abruptly quit and walked out of her entire world. It was only after two years, three thousand drinks, fifty-five sloppy kisses, and nine proposals of marriage that her latest and last love-struck distraction suggested they hear what this man with the ponytail had to say.

Then there was the Langoonan, Maerung, whose lithe movements and solitary nature reminded Violet of a swan. She was the only one of their small group who had joined for the simple reason that she believed in the movement; specifically that the movement was the fulfillment of the prophecies from her people that proclaimed the final destruction. So certain was she of this eventuality that she used most of her spare time to make her deathmask, a precious item of the Langoonans who believed that one could not die without one. That was why Violet had first seen Maerung on the seashore – she had been hunting for shells to add to her mask – and Violet would always remember Maerung's head held high like a queen as she glided over the surf, occasionally bending low, her legs straight as a heron, to reach her beautiful shells. Maerung's life was as exact as her figure, and her secrets were as salacious as clotted cream.

The Jilruan, Sciora, was always willing to divulge her secrets. Though tall, with blue skin and yellow eyes, Sciora was hardly a heavy lifter; in fact, she preferred to take as many breaks while in the mines as she could. She pulled her weight instead in conversation, prattling on about the men she had killed or the latest fashions she wore, as if the two were of equal character. Sciora was a cat, with all the pomposity and viciousness befitting one, which was the reason why the NSB had found her in the first place; she had been a guard for the Hutts, like many Jilruan before her, but she found that she absolutely detested the stink of slime.

Sciora suddenly stood up and stretched. "I can't abide this rain. I miss the sun."

"I thought Jilruan preferred the shadows," Kerkin teased.

Sciora sniffed. "When I have work to do. But I am not like most of my kind, as you should know, Nimbanel."

Kerkin leaned back. "Touché." Kerkin was not your typical Nimbanel.

"If I wanted incessant rain, I would have gone to Kamino."

"By all means," Maerung said solemnly, "if you wish to forsake the cause, then leave."

"Ah, Maerung, I speak lightly." Sciora began to pace. "I was not meant for confinement."

An agreeing grunt sounded from Violet's right. For there was another who had joined their game: Orlo. Violet was always alert whenever he decided to hang in their barracks, which he did with surprising frequency.

Violet watched as Sciora went to stare out the window, the rain rattling in sheets beyond. They had been cooped up long, and while they often sniped at each other, Violet was grateful. Even for Sciora. She reached for the comforting mitt of Massa and grasped it. He squeezed back. He was never too far away.

Sciora's announcement, "someone's coming," was followed a couple seconds later by the creak and slam of the door. The figure in black shook like a dog and hung his coat to dry.

"What news, Priest?" Kerkin asked, reclaiming her seat.

"Nothing from the Colonel," he answered, wiping the rain from his forehead and moving to the heater in the corner. He held out his hands and sniffed. "At least nothing beyond his aggravation. He fears we're taking too long; we need the dedlanite before we can move, and we need to move before _her_ people…find out." The Priest had motioned to Violet.

Massa frowned. "It's not her people we need worry about, surely, but the Galactic Union. And the Jedi."

The Priest did not respond.

"Have you come to join in our game?" Sciora smiled.

"Ha! Still playing cards?" The Priest said. "Maybe I will join. Though I'm not just here for a social call. I'm here for the Klinko. The Colonel wants her."

Violet stiffened. Since the rains, her meetings with the Colonel had dried up. She thought he had finally grown tired of hearing her drone on about nothing and would leave her alone. She had begun to finally relax into her waterlogged life. Curiously, Orlo had also bridled.

"Why?" Orlo asked.

The Priest just shrugged. "He doesn't tell me these things, just sends me to fetch. But I'm tired; I think I'll stay for some rounds." He plopped down with a groan as Kerkin dealt him in.

" _Droot_ acting up?" she asked the Priest.

The Priest barked as he picked up his cards. "I'm not that old…" When he noticed Kerkin blinking her eyes at him, he added: "It's from an old injury," but he didn't elaborate.

"Into the pot!" she exclaimed, laughing.

"What?"

"Well, we don't have any money," Kerkin explained, "so we tease a secret and if we lose, we share it!"

The Priest looked dubious but rapped his knuckles against the crate they used as their table: "Fine; my story about my injury, though it's not really interesting."

"O.K., but you better think up _something_ interesting to put in the sabacc pot."

The Priest squinted in annoyance, then noticed Violet sitting stone-faced next to him. He raised a brow. "I wouldn't mind knowing what the Klinko put into the pot."

Violet clenched her jaw. From the moment the rules were devised, she was on the defensive: she couldn't tell _any_ secrets, because what if they got back to the Colonel? But they didn't ask for the inner workings of Earth society and politics; they were much more interested in her personal betrayals and kinks. Of course, she had something for the sabacc pot, and without thinking she had teased it.

What an idiot she could be.

It was five days ago that they had begun to play, and they had kept up a running game with the sabacc pot still to be won. So since then, she had been playing as if her life depended on it. She learned quickly, and while the others casually swept their cards off the table with the same motion that they swigged their drinks, Violet fought her private war with calm fervor. She was wary enough around the others, but with Orlo playing…she would not lose.

"I expect you _would_ like to know," Violet retorted coolly, "but the pot hasn't been won yet."

"But aren't you supposed to – what did you call it – tease it?"

A vein popped in Violet's temple. "As I told the rest, it has to do with – it wouldn't help you learn anything, I mean."

"It has something to do with a friend of hers. A boy." Sciora shrugged. "Didn't sound too interesting to be honest."

Violet blushed, but held her tongue.

The Priest eyed her enigmatically. Then he let out a low laugh. "Humans," was all he said. "Same everywhere."

He turned his attention to his cards, and Violet did likewise.

 _A positive ten and three. Damn._ The goal of classic sabacc was to get twenty-three or negative twenty-three without going over (called 'bombing out'). The version they were playing, though, was Corellian Spike, a derivation from the original game. The game only featured numbers 1-10, positive and negative, plus two neutral zeros cards, and used a die instead of an interference field; players in the Hutt world were far too poor for such expensive equipment. _Too true_ , Violet thought as she considered the tattered state of the cards she held. And they were pretty poor, too, considering her current total of sixteen, which was well on its way to a nice hand in classic, was not great considering the goal of Corellian Spike was to get zero.

"Ha HA!" Kerkin laughed, rocking back and forth as she looked at her cards. "Ya'll NEVER gonna catch me!" Kerkin was up in the game, though Violet was hot on her heels.

Massa growled. He was in last place.

Kerkin dealt every player their Spike Card, then the first draw phase began.

"Ooh, not too good there, cat," Kerkin said to Sciora as the Jilruan passed on her Spike Card and drew from the pile. Jilruan tend to be inscrutable, but Kerkin has her ways.

Sciora threw down her cards. "Will you stop reading me! Your wrong, anyways." She picked her cards back up.

"Of course I'm wrong, that's why I said it," Kerkin winked.

As Sciora fumed silently, Maerung picked up her Spike Card, a negative two. "Magister Koredo, I did enjoy your service yesterday. If you would like, I would be more than willing to provide music should you decide that it may add to the worship."

For a moment, Violet was confused until she heard the Priest sigh. She had forgotten his name.

"Honestly, you can do it if you want. The Heart doesn't care one way or the other, and nor do I."

"If you would think it would help." Maerung bowed her head.

Orlo interrupted with a quick intake of breath as he drew his card. He smothered his lapse with a glower, but not before everyone else noticed.

"What have you got there?" Sciora asked, thankful to have passed the dunce cap.

When Orlo didn't answer, Massa answered for him: "He's got a sylop."

Orlo smirked. "Wrong. As always, dog."

The room went silent as Orlo discarded and the Priest drew. Violet knew why. To call Klatooinians 'dogs' was about the lowest insult you could give: dumber than dogs, worse than slaves.

"I've known Massa for a while," Violet said carefully, "and I've never known him to be wrong."

Orlo said nothing, and instead fiddled with his cards.

"Really," the Priest said as Violet drew her card. "I've known Massa for a little longer than you, and I've known him to be wrong many times."

Kerkin cast the dice.

"That's true," Sciora answered when Violet stayed silent, "only yesterday he claimed that Violet had met her quota, which of course was an outright lie."

"Right," Massa growled, "and I suppose I was also the one who was gone for a span in the afternoon?"

Sciora's lip curled as she drew her card and without looking, placed it between the two in her hand. "Another of your lies, then."

"Not this time," the Priest interjected, "I did happen to see a shadow slinking past the cathedral." He shifted his cards and his eyes flicked towards Sciora. "But I presume it was just for a break. You do take a lot of those, right? An afternoon nap in the hammock, perhaps?"

Sciora stayed silent. Violet thought this curious; she wasn't one to let a jab go by unless it was true.

"That's right!" Orlo said suddenly. "I saw –"

"I heard about a bird that was twittering on your shoulder down by the river the other day. So unless you want to tell everyone about that, you might want to shut your face," she spat acidly.

Violet looked down, but she could feel Orlo's eyes darting to her. How did she know?

Evidently, Orlo wondered the same thing. "How…where –"

"You can never underestimate the role that comfort plays in divulging secrets," Sciora said conversationally. She looked happy; the dice did not turn up doubles, so she must have a good hand. "People are much more willing to talk during a game like this, or in the heat of the day, or while reclining in their own bed."

The room went quiet. Sciora never could resist.

Orlo looked livid, but he didn't want to push anything.

That responsibility fell to Kerkin.

"What were you doing by the river, Orlo?"

Orlo smiled, but his eyes remained deadened. "That'll be the next sabacc pot, then."

"Oh, come on, throw it in for the hand pot," Kerkin complained. "Heart knows we've had nothing good for hours."

The others cajoled Orlo, and though Violet could tell that he wanted the others to know about their conversation by the river as little as she, the torrent of pleading and a final wink from Sciora promised too many riches that Orlo gave in.

"O.K., I'm raising with my secret. Anyone want to raise or will you tell me yours?"

Violet drew a sharp breath, but Kerkin covered it: "I'll call; I have an interesting one about an ambassador from Corellia."

"These are supposed to be our _own_ secrets," Maerung said politely.

"It is," she replied with a broad smile.

In addition to Kerkin, only the Priest and Violet decided to stay in the game. "Ah," the Priest had said, "the Klinko thinks she can beat you, Fire-Eater."

But Violet wasn't in it for her own secret. _Stupid-ass let himself get bullied into it, and it's up to me to clean it up. Still; if he agreed so readily to raise, he has to have something good, right? Let's see; he drew a negative ten and negative three from his Spike Card, and he discarded a positive five on his last turn. Why would he do that if he has all these negatives? He_ must _have a positive ten to balance out that negative ten, or else why would he keep it? He's hoping for double staves, two matching pairs equaling zero._

Violet looked down at her hand: her recently drawn -1, and -8, -4, +10, +3. _Well, here goes._

She discarded the positive three.

And Orlo picked it up.

Violet breathed a momentary sigh, but then Kerkin picked up the dice.

But there was no worry as a two and four showed: no change.

So the four remaining players laid their hands down.

"Sabacc," Kerkin grinned as she laid down her -5, +5, 0. The Priest spat as he slammed his hands totaling negative 1 on the table, and Violet sighed as she placed her negative three down. But then she looked to Orlo.

He was smiling. "Double Staves," he said with triumph, his two pairs shining in the lantern-light. "See, Kerkin, you forgot to say _Simple_ Sabacc; the "simple" makes a world of difference."

Kerkin gnashed her teeth as Orlo collected the cards and everyone began to pay up with their secrets. Violet absentmindedly told them about the time she wore an outlawed suit for a swim meet, and several of them complained that that didn't really constitute a "raise," but she didn't care; Orlo's secret was off the table.

Orlo dealt everyone in and Violet picked up her cards. The Priest started to say something, but Violet didn't hear as her attention was pulled immediately back to her cards: a -2 and a sylop, two thirds of the way to an Idiot's Array, the only hand that would win the sabacc pot.

But then she noticed the room had gone silent. She looked up at everyone's faces turned to hers.

"Uh, what?"

Sciora sniggered, but Massa repeated: "The Priest said this is the last hand for you, then he needs to take you up to see the Colonel."

"O.K.," she replied, "last hand."

She could do it. She could play the Idiot's Array and her sabacc secret, her grave secret would be safe. She only needed a negative three.

Her Spike Card: positive six.

No good.

While Orlo continued to goad Kerkin after successfully beating her the previous round, Violet forwent her Spike Card and drew from the pile: negative five. She placed it onto the discard pile and tried not to look too disappointed. Then she finally began to pay attention to the conversation.

"Okay, how many in this sentence?"

"Twenty-three," Kerkin replied without hesitation.

"What?" Violet asked blankly.

"She can count letters in the sentence you speak," Orlo said, impressed. "Just like that."

"Just like how she can count cards," Sciora said drily.

"Hey; don't blame your sloppy play on my natural talents."

"That is true," said the Priest, "Kerkin does have many talents. Too many."

"That's what they tell me." Kerkin refused to take the bait; in fact, she relished in it, her big eyes bulging like a large frogs, Violet thought.

"I don't know," Sciora retorted, "I think your talents are of the sloppy type."

Orlo threw the dice. Violet breathed a sigh of relief as she realized she would not have to give up her cards.

"Alright," Kerkin shrugged in response to Sciora, but the Jilruan persisted.

"I mean, good God, _I_ would never have stuck me tongue down the throat of a Chevin, but –"

"You can't fool me, Sciora. I'm good at counting remember?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Most people might falter when the count goes beyond the amount they can fit on their hand, but even a Nautolan might run out of tentacles to recall the number of nights you were gone. But that's alright, I remember. I have a good head for numbers, after all." Smiling, but not the eyes.

"I don't know what you mean, and nor does anyone else. I wish you would talk plainly for once Kerkin. But anyways, it seems reckless, and, to be honest, downright slovenly to have let loose in the capital, no matter how normal your parents may have –"

"If I hadn't, I would never have come here, all hail the Colonel."

The echoing murmurs of "all hail the Colonel" dispersed the cloud that was crackling in the room.

Violet detected the airing, but she now had a new dilemma: to keep the +2 she had drawn. That would give her a simple sabacc, often a winning combination. She could leave a champion…but she would still have her sabacc pot looming over her shoulder.

She discarded the +2.

As Orlo threw the dice for the second time, the Priest asked: "Who is gonna take the Klinko up to the Colonel?"

"Why don't you?" Massa asked.

"Eh…" The Priest rocked backwards and leaned on his arms. "Don't feel like walking in the rain. Maybe it'll clear up in a couple hours."

They scoffed derisively.

"You just don't want to have to do some other chore," Massa said.

"So?"

"For a leader of the Heart," Maerung observed, "you can be quite lacking in diligence."

The Priest laughed. " _Doonana_ , I am no leader of the Heart; I'm an excuse for the comfort of old ladies." He toasted to Maerung. "To the Heart, and its faithful drunkard!" He drank. "If only it had ears to hear my toast," he said, smacking his lips.

"Oh, one does not need ears to hear."

A metallic click, click, click sounded from the beyond the bunks, then a figured appeared. "Many of us aliens have no ears as you humanoids would call them, but we still hear vibrations, of course. I will take her; my joints are killing enough in this rain, no matter what I do."

It was the Cripple of Bedesta. No one knew which planet she came from; only that the place she hailed from translated as "pool of healing," though it was clear she had never tasted its waters. She was an Evoci, but her mangled knees had kept her away from her kin. She had fashioned crutches for herself at such a young age, she wouldn't have been able to walk even if she did miraculously win back the use of her legs. And that was how she thought of her legs: she didn't think of them. No more than anyone thinks of a particular strand of arm hair. But that did not stop others from thinking. And try as they might, she never did give them anything other than: "Hello; I am called the Cripple of Bedesta." The honorific gave her an air of royalty even if it was the lowliest of titles, and the stories it tempted shrouded her in mystery so that the girl who no one knew suddenly became the holiest of all the followers.

Which is why when the miracle occurred, most thought that the cause had something to do with the Cripple.

Violet, like the others, never felt at ease with her; any words attempted missed their mark. But Violet, who was all too well used to the uncomfortable space between, found it oddly comforting in heart.

The Priest surveyed her. "Hmm… You say 'you humanoids' as if you are not an Evoci."

The Cripple broke into what might have passed as a smile if it were not so horrific. "That may be the highest compliment one has paid me in years. Oh!" she said suddenly, as if she had sat on a tack, "this round has the potential for intrigue."

Violet tried not let the shock show on her face, but this was doubly hard as she had been doubly shocked; in the same span of time that the Cripple had pronounced her prophecy, Violet had drawn it: the negative three. Her hand was now 0, -2, -3: the Idiot's Array.

"I want to raise," Kerkin said suddenly. "The Cripple thinks its interesting, and I want to hear why. I have a story about the Chevin, as Sciora calls him, though I think she may be disappointed."

Violet screamed internally. _Shut up, Kerkin, let's just get this over with!_ Violet quietly called as well, and so did the Priest and Massa. Sciora threw her cards down with a huff.

But then Orlo shocked them further still.

"You know what? I think I'll raise one more. I want everyone to share a specific secret: their hardest kill."

Several of them groaned, though Sciora seemed put-out that she couldn't participate in this one.

Violet went white.

"What if we haven't killed?" Kerkin said, frowning.

Orlo shrugged. "Then you have nothing to worry about."

Violet knew what Orlo was doing; he had never taken to Massa, and Orlo looked for any opportunity to embarrass him. But Massa had long made peace with that part of his life, and so he called. And so did Kerkin.

And so did Violet. For there was nothing to worry about, because she had the winningest of winning hands. It didn't matter what Orlo asked for, because she was –

"Double spikes."

She didn't know who said it, and heard it as if from a long way out at sea. And at first she didn't register its meaning, or what it referred to.

And then she looked down at the dice.

The final throw turned up doubles, and double spikes at that: a whole new set of cards would have to be drawn. And there were no more turns, no more draws, no more bets…they would replace and lay down. There was nothing else to be done.

The groans were loudest from those who had dropped out, for they could have had a better chance. Violet slowly picked up her cards one-by-one with the delicacy of a crane that shook in the breeze. There was nothing to be done.

+9, +7, +7. Twenty-three: nearly as far from zero as you could get. A winning hand in classic sabacc, Violet thought. But that was a different game. If only they were playing a different game, but there was nothing to be done about that.

She laid her hand down. Orlo had lost nearly as badly with a -17, and Massa had a serviceable +3 on a random draw. But Kerkin took the pot with a -5, +5, -1. Kerkin had won, and Violet had lost. She would have to speak her truth. There was nothing to be done.

But then she began to realize for the first time in her life the benefit of being weak; no one suspected that she may be capable of secrets so dark. For they passed right over her after Massa recounted his chilling tale of his assassinations on Gos Hutta, looking to hear Orlo's tale.

But as Violet stretched, getting ready to leave with someone discretely, Kerkin noticed her: "Wait, Violet, since you couldn't give us your raised secret, let's your sabacc secret."

A chorus of yesses followed the suggestion, but Violet sat up and responded simply: "That's not how it works."

"Yeah, fine, but it's not like it's that serious. It's all in good fun."

Kerkin eyes sparkled with the innocence of a spring dew, but recollections from childhood would not sway her anymore; she was older now. And she was becoming agitated.

"But we don't know how long the rain will last. We may keep playing." Violet tried to keep her tenuous voice light.

"Yeah, but you can always pick another one. I'm sure you have something more devious anyways," Kerkin said with a wink that was meant to be encouraging. "Besides, a little love story can hardly hurt you now."

"Oh, no," the Cripple interjected suddenly. "It is not love, but death that her memory speaks of."

"Death, always death," Violet stood up and stormed around the room. "This place is obsessed with it."

"Yes, we are," the Cripple interrupted. "It is because death is always here. Just as it surrounds you."

Violet tried not to look at the faces below her line of vision, for they were surely filled with wonder and doubt as they contemplated possibilities they had never considered about Violet.

"Birds do often bring death," the Priest said quietly, as if remembering something he had read once while studying to become a leader of faith.

"But she is right," the Cripple said, suddenly business-like. "We do think of it too much; no doubt, that is why we have lost all the hair on our heads. Come," she said to Violet, "let's get you out of the rain."

.

She could just make out the thud-click of the Cripple of Bedesta beside her as they plodded along in the rain, though she kept her head down. The water had already drenched her clothes and was seeping into her. She blew a droplet off her lip.

"Damn this rain," she muttered under her breath, and she drew her arms around her. To Violet's surprise, this earned a response from her companion.

"It is not good to curse the weather here. It is like fishing for the _lusra_ ; it fishes you back." At Violet's odd glance, she added: "You curse, you bring it on you. That is luck here."

Violet looked up at the sky, its gray and black clouds contorting into so many twists as if trying and failing to mold into something specific. But it just rumbled on and the trees around the compound shook with the wind.

Trying her luck, Violet asked innocently, "Why? What has your luck been like here?"

 _Thud-click_. _Thud-click. Thud._ The young Evoci turned to face Violet. Suddenly she laughed. "Huh. Most know the answer to that question at first sight." She whipped back and hobbled on, leaving only the slapping of the rain on the leaves.

They continued toward the Colonel's cabin, the water running down Violet's arms as if trying to escape. Escape did cross Violet's mind, as it often did, but where would she go? Her thoughts of escape popped into her mind like passing breezes: tickling, but never seriously threatening. Not like the wind today.

They reached the stairs to the Colonel's cabin. Violet held out a hand but the Cripple ignored her, switching both crutches to one hand and hopping each step one at a time. Each time a grunt escaped her, little puffs of breath thrust into the rain. Violet thought she would slip on the slick steps, but she never did. She knew how to walk in the rain.

Violet grabbed the door and held it open for the Cripple who had steadied herself to catch her breath. She managed a wry smile.

"You still have manners, I see. Not an easy thing to do in a sh*tty life."

The Cripple crutched her way through the open doorway. Violet stood for a moment. She suddenly realized that the smacking of the rain on leaves was nearly identical to the sound back home.

"You know," Violet said as the door shut behind her, "manners are manners here or back home. It doesn't matter the life you lead; it doesn't give you an excuse for being an ass."

Violet had meant to speak in general terms, and she was suddenly worried that she had unintentionally insulted the Cripple of Bedesta. She started to stutter and explanation.

"Hmm, don't bother," the Cripple waved her away. "That's the attitude you need to survive. Manners will only get you so far…sometimes they've been the only thing between me and death; other times their sluggishness would have killed me." She shrugged. "Another tool." She tapped on crutch against another. "To move along." The Cripple laughed dejectedly.

And Violet finally asked. "Why are you here, then?"

The Cripple gave another wry smile, but her eyes sank into waking dreams which clouded her face. "I have nowhere else."

Violet expected more, but got nothing. The Cripple sensed this. "What, you want my story? I think not. That is the only thing left to me. But your story…that _would_ be interesting. It is not a normal person who dries so quickly."

Confused, Violet looked down. Indeed, the Cripple was right; she was completely dry. The Cripple, whose tuft of hair still lay flat against her shining head, was nodding. "It is the water; it cannot bear to touch you. I told you not to curse it. Only the most foolish brings ill luck on Mogando."

With a flip of a crutch, the Cripple of Bedesta hobbled down the hall. With her weary words of warning and wisdom, Violet had forgotten, but as she gazed down the long hallway at the bent retreating figure, she remembered that the poor soul was even younger than she was.

.

The Colonel had only invited her because he was lonely, it seemed, for he spent the whole time lounging in his hammock asking her opinion on a disagreement he had had with another _derjak_ fighter when he was a younger man. This is what their informal interrogations had become, Violet thought.

As he downed his tarda and occasionally leaned over to break wind, the Colonel rambled through a story which had the air of insignificance but which the Colonel told with the precision of a many-played memory. His father, who was always looking towards the next adventure, had taken up derjak fighting, a bastard cousin of dejarik bred in the outlands of the Hutt Empire in which fighters raised derjaks, odd little creatures from who-knows-where that waddle on two legs like penguins. Derjak fighters set them against each other until one gouges out another's eye with its beak.

When he reached the age of nine, his father, Je Orlana Bootana, decided it was time that he learned the trade. The first time he remembered trying not to vomit from the squeals of anguish and the ripping flesh. Over time he was able to master his stomach but he could never understand his father's passion for it. But still he endured every Benduday with the solemnness of a religious rite. He would stand behind his father – a skinny shadow of a boy, the other men noted – and help him place their entry into the ring; he still remembered the way it squirmed in his hands.

But the day he was remembering with Violet was nearly ten years later. This was during his unbeaten streak, which to that point had lasted for several months and made him the king of the town. But unlike his father who would have relished the attention and quickly spent his earnings on parties for the town, their home bursting at the seams, he left the circle immediately after victory, declining accolades, and returned each day with the cold determination of a man playing for his life. Nobody ever knew what he did with the money; indeed, he never seemed to care, as weeks might go by before something would remind him to collect. Usually it was his mother, Surula, the only one in the family with a head for common sense, who would remind him.

But on this day he faced the derjak of Porendo Argula, the son of one of the other founders of the town and a childhood friend. He had carefully selected one of his wily males, knowing Porendo to be a shrewd derjak fighter. His derjak started well, landing several well-timed bites. But soon he became distracted and this allowed Porendo's derjak to land the final stroke, picking out his prized male's eye. It was only then that he had realized Porendo's treachery; for he had switched out his entry at the last moment, playing one of his females who happened to be in heat. Fighters were supposed to declare their entries before the race; but it was less this infraction and more the intended insult that led him to strike at Porendo Argula with his corralling rod. Porendo was dead before he hit the ground.

The Colonel asked Violet about growing up with friends, about derjak strategy, about the morality of switching entries; but mostly he wanted to know what she thought about Porendo Argula's intentions. Why did he do it? To win, of course, Violet had answered. But that did not seem to satisfy the Colonel who approached it from every angle to see it as an insult that his great string of victories had not been broken by superior skill, but by a cheat; not by strength, but by a woman. To Violet's surprise, he never once asked her about the killing of Porendo Argula.

.

The _gundal_ swooped low and with a quick flapping of wings splashed down in the fountain. It reminded Abel of a goose with its long neck and preference for picking among the grasses, which made its presence in the city all the more striking.

"That's a bad omen," Almina said, nodding to the bird. Sanson scowled at his wife's superstition.

The nine of them, seven Jedi and Almina and Sanson, were waiting for Quoto to return with news from a member of the Banda, the Gods Heart Union. They were spread out among three of the restaurants in the Market of the Angels, and Abel sat with Almina, Sanson and Kyrana. They lounged on thin-backed chairs under the noontime sun which gilded the piazza with a summery haze. Their table was one of many which overlooked the bustling market; immediately next to them, two children – a girl in a pleated dress and pigtails and a boy in a starched uniform – sat drinking pink-colored shakes with their grandmother. Each of the four also had a drink for appearances, though Almina in her nervousness had just finished her glass and slammed it on the table. Sanson eyed her with a mixture of apprehension and snobbishness, but Abel and Kyrana had other things to worry about.

"I still believe we should have gone with him," Kyrana whispered.

"We would have stood out like sore thumbs in there," Abel responded. "But Quoto goes there to drink just about every night in the bar, singing and carousing until dawn. No one would expect him to be doing anything other than that."

"I do not know what our thumbs have to do with it," Kyrana said, "but we cannot trust him to be on our side. You know this."

Abel didn't fully know what to make of Quoto, or any of them; they were all so foreign. And though Quoto had said he supported the Union, or Banda, in quite a dramatic fashion, Abel still thought he could trust him not to betray them. He just didn't seem the type.

Once Almina found out that they were Jedi, she decided to help them. Although that might have seemed the easiest trick for getting cooperation, Jedi were not universally loved throughout the galaxy, and you never knew where allegiances lay in Hutt Space. She uncovered all her hidden dealings, and while none of them showed a destination, they did have a wealth of information on the _people_ to look out for. Tiloa was all ready to knock some heads together, but Almina counseled rightly that the _bandaneetas_ would rather die than betray secrets. Another method was required. And that's where Quoto came in.

" _What_ is taking so long?" Almina said, and any passerby may have thought she was talking about another drink. "Show me a man who lasts this long with a woman and I'll bring back the Viceroys."

Sanson shifted uncomfortably, for his own manhood had been tacitly challenged by his wife's interjection. "Almina, not even you can bring back the days of the Viceroys. Our economic prosperity is long gone."

"That's why I said it, you old fool," Almina grumbled. "But I could, _too_ do it if I thought it would do us some good."

Their argument, born out of nervous energy more than anything else, continued as Abel looked up to the bedroom window.

Kyrana noticed his glance. "It does take longer than expected. Quoto should have been back by now."

Abel frowned in response. "He did say his mistress – what was her name?"

"Dulza," Almina said, interrupting her own tirade, and starting a new one. "Why he ever thought a prostitute would love him alone is beyond me. She's as bone dead as the rest of them, but you'd think the light shines out of her armpits the way he –"

"Yes, Dulza," Abel interjected. "Anyway, he did say that she was 'well versed in the arts of persuasion' and that 'a woman of such unpassable skill could not be beholden –'"

"Yes, yes, she's like opening of a flower not the grinding of the wheel or some such nonsense," Almina said. "My brother has always seen flowers in a fly trap. But still; it should not be so hard for a woman in Dulza's position to find where the Banda hail from. Men love to boast in bed; they think it inflames us."

Using Almina's intelligence, they had discovered that a captain of a small NSB ship was staying in the hotel that Quoto frequented. They figured he was bound to know where the NSB headquarters were and where they might find Violet. And Quoto knew just the girl to needle the truth out of the man.

Abel took a sip of his water. It had turned warm in the sun.

Abel allowed his eyes to roam, passing idly across the heads that dotted like a Seurat painting. High class women carrying silken parasols dawdled by on the arms of men whose soulless eyes only blazed with fire when forced to look into another pair. Occasionally, some would stop at their table, for Sanson Poonek dol Cailic and his wife Almina Maranza Poonek dol Cailic were among the most well-respected people in the town. Abel forced his mouth into a semblance of a smile to each newcomer who flashed one of their own, but he had the impression that his was the more genuine of the two. The children that passed were only ever of two kinds: the ones trailing behind their perfumed parents (or more often their aunt or grandmother), eyes down and socks up, or else the ones who flew around in a rage of rags, getting clocked on the ears by vendors. It just so happened that two of the types came into contact as Abel watched: one young boy, in little more than a brown bag with holes, was dogging the steps of a young girl, poking her in the back, and laughing. Abel could see that she didn't want to cry out, but neither did she feel able to turn around and demand that he stop. But apparently her father heard something, most likely roused by the boy's laughter than by the girl's silent tears, and without a word caught the boy by the neck and dragged him all the way out of the market. As the man was walking back he was accosted by another lean man who appeared to be the boy's father; the lean man stuck his face into the other's, and the two had almost come to blows by the time the authorities came. The lean man was dragged out just like his son. The market, which had come to a standstill to watch the events unfold, continued bustling as the father brushed off his white suit and pulled his daughter along. But of the whole event, the thing that stuck in Abel's mind was the limpid aura of the daughter. Everything seemed to grow limpid as Abel watched: the shoppers dragged to each destination, their footfalls duds on the stone pavement, and the breeze stopped, leaving a stale taste and a sticky heat which brought a bead of sweat down Abel's cheek.

He wiped it off.

Almina stood up suddenly. "We must go. I smell rotting flesh." Abel didn't know what she was talking about, but he sensed her earnest energy.

"Rotting flesh?" Kyrana asked skeptically.

"Yes; I know the smell well. I smelled it the day before my mother died, and the whole city stank of it the day before the plum company massacre." Sanson looked like he doubted it, but he refused to speak against his wife.

Suddenly Abel wondered something he had not wondered before: was Almina Force-sensitive? But before he could think on it anymore, his breath caught in his throat. That undeniable sense, the call of action, terror, and impending doom. He looked up to the third floor window.

"I sense it too," Kyrana said.

With a scraping of chairs and the clinking of glass against silverware, the Jedi sprinted to the brothel.

.

Kyrana darted up first. Abel was hot on her heels, taking three steps at a time. Kyrana paused for a moment at the top of the steps, trying to decide where they might be, but she instinctually turned down the left hallway. They heard a muffled shout spring from the last door on the right. Abel had no idea what they might find; just that it wouldn't be good. Kyrana blasted the door down, and they strode in on the scene.

The bandaneeta was in full control. He had a woman, Dulza presumably, pinned to the bed with his knee as he pulled on her hair. Her hands were tied to the bed posts. Though he covered her mouth, tears raged down Dulza's cheeks and putrid groans sagged out of the greasy cloth. Quoto, who had apparently tried to stop the man, was knocked out cold, his head smashed into a clay vase.

"Who sent you!" the man screamed to Dulza, but he was thrown back by Kyrana's Force-punch. The man hit his head against the wall, and was momentarily stunned. Abel reached for Dulza, untied her, and carried her off the bed while Kyrana jumped up to subdue the bandaneeta.

"Who…who arrre you…" the man slurred. Kyrana said nothing. She took the ropes and tied them around his hands instead. "Oh…" the man said with smile, "a Twi'lek. I can do that."

Kyrana reached back and slapped the man straight across the face. Abel heard a bone crack and the bandaneeta yelped. Kyrana grabbed his cheeks in a vice-like grip.

"Death will not find you. For the vultures cannot find a man who was never living."

Abel didn't understand, but evidently Kyrana spoke with such prophetic authority that the man paled as if he had seen his future written in the book of fate.

At that moment, Almina and Sanson finally hobbled into the room. Almina gave a cry and rushed over to Quoto to rouse him. Dulza fell against Abel and sank to her knees weeping. Kyrana came out of her rage and went at once to Dulza who Abel had been trying to comfort. Kyrana sat down and took the woman into her arms, rocking her gently as her sobs subsided.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Abel went to the man tied to the bed. The Evoci bandaneeta seemed to be gnawing at his cheek, perhaps trying to tend the wound Kyrana dealt him. He noticed Abel looking at him, and he sneered.

"Jedi then?"

Abel said nothing.

"Of course." The man spit. "Tell me, Jedi," he whispered, and Abel leaned in. "You really believe the Force is on your side?"

Abel wanted to turn away, but found he could not. "I do not know."

Suddenly, Abel's vision began to blur with tears. He let them come and fixed his eyes on the man. "But you – you and your people – took someone. And I swear…I swear…" _Swear what?_ Abel was shaking with the frustration of failing Violet. _What could he do? He promised he would do whatever it took, but what would it take?_

"The Force," the man answered "as you call it, takes no sides. It is merciless."

The other Jedi finally burst onto the scene, and And was the first to speak. "What happened?" After Abel quickly filled them in, Tiloa strode over to the man.

She waved her hand over the man's face. "You will tell me the planet you come from." Her voice was so steady and even that even Abel was slightly compelled to answer "Earth."

But the bandaneeta barked a laugh. "That does not work on me. I have lived in the storm of the Force for so long, you could say I've…built up a tolerance." He chuckled again and broke off into hacking coughs.

Tiloa gave And a look and he nodded. "There's no other way." They both moved to either side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Abel asked. He could see the shadow of fear peppering the face of the man.

"What we must," Tiloa answered.

The two padawans stretched out their hands and the man began to rise, levitating over the bed, his hands still tied behind him. The man was shaking as he turned upside-down. Then he went rigid. His mouth opened but no sound came out and his eyes were focused with terror on something far away.

Abel couldn't bear it. "What are you doing to him? This can't be –"

"Abel," And said calmly, "this is standard procedure in the field. You wouldn't know. He will be alright…if, well, he will be alright."

"But this is t–" But he couldn't say the word. He looked at the others, and though Puli shook slightly, her face was set. Lev was looking at the ground.

Was this right? This was like war, wasn't it? But this wasn't the way of the Jedi. Acting on the side of the light wasn't something you could turn on or off. Right?

Or perhaps, this is what it would take. He said he would do it.

While Abel thought, the man contorted in strange positions, hovering over the bed like one possessed. He fought against the probing of And and Tiloa with all his might; the two padawans were sweating. But suddenly, they released him.

Abel couldn't tell, but then the man began to cough, to gurgle blood.

"You killed him." Abel stared open mouthed at And. But And shook his head.

"No. He's poisoned himself. Probably before we started."

But the man was just able to choke out a few words. "The Force is merciless." He spat. Then he wiped blood on his shaking arm. "But the Force will be nothing compared to the wrath the Banda will show on this girl," he said, pointing to Dulza. She whimpered. "A traitor to her own kind, to her own worth." He spit up more blood. Suddenly, he laughed. "Death has found me after all," the bandaneeta croaked before he died, his sneering smile continuing to haunt his face as it sagged to its final rest.

The finality filled the room. No one spoke; the only sounds were the whimpers of Dulza. Abel felt oddly relieved; the choice had been taken from them.

Zek was the first to speak. "Did you at least find anything?"

And sighed. "A little. He refused to think about the location of his planet. But he did think _of_ it, and it looks comfortable and small; nothing to worry about. Perhaps we've overestimated the power of this organization. Also, we know his ship."

"If we know his ship," Zek said, "we can find where he's been."

"I doubt it," Tiloa said. "He'd have wiped his recent trips. It's standard protocol for even low-end smugglers."

"Well then we could request the navicomputer to take us there."

"But we'd need a name."

That was what they were left with: a name. They needed the name of the system.

Tiloa turned to Dulza.

"Did you find the location of their home?"

"Tiloa!" Kyrana cried. "Not now."

Tiloa ignored her. "Dulza. Did the man tell you anything?"

Dulza shivered and her eyes darted wildly. "I don't…"

"Tiloa," Abel said, "I think we can do this another–"

"Dulza, listen to me, only me," Tiloa said in a quiet, but steady voice. "What did you find out? It is important that you tell this to me. Where do they fly from?"

Dulza shot up like a scared cat and rushed to a corner. "I don't know, I don't know, I can't remember, I…" She began to shake and whimper.

Tiloa advanced on her, but Kyrana grabbed her. "You are upsetting her!"

"I know, but this has to happen _now_!" Tiloa said, shoving Kyrana's hand off of her. "While she can still remember it. She won't remember it tomorrow, or even in an hour. Dulza…"

"Dulza!" Quoto had woken up and went to hold the woman. Tiloa held him back, but Dulza recoiled from him to, as if she didn't know the man.

"Dulza!" Tiloa said again, "where do they make birth? From where do they come?"

Dulza clenched her jaw, squeezed her eyes, and shook.

"Dulza, my beautiful love, what –"

Sobs racked her skinny body.

"Dulza, listen to me only, where did –"

She pounded her head into her hands.

"Tiloa, leave her alone –"

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Let her be. Love, listen only –"

"– To me, what was the name –"

"Dulza, don't –"

"Dulza –"

" _Dulza_ –"

"Mogando!" Dulza shouted.

The room silenced, apart from the rapid breathing of Dulza. "The man…mentioned a place called Mogando…" And she collapsed.

.

Mogando.

None of them have ever heard the name before. But it has a ring of a fabled setting, a paradise out of time, so that none of them know if it truly is a place at all, or rather a dream that the forsaken people of this corner of the galaxy are always chasing. Abel imagines that in a place like this, overrun with grime, guns, solitude and geese, the people might seek a garden to call their own. And it seems some have found such a place.

Each one of them contemplated the word that hung in the air of those four walls smeared with the stink and sweat of the centuries of lovers who passed through as ghosts stumbling through the maze between heaven and hell, which now mixed with the tangy odor of iron fuming out of the dead man. Abel didn't know who it was that finally moved, or perhaps it was the combined will of all twelve of them, but eventually they found the strength to wrap the body of the bandaneeta in the sheets and blankets. The problem came when they discussed what to do with the body. None of them knew either the proper way or the smart way, and the only person who seemed to have a strong opinion was Sanson Poonek who implored them to take it to the city morgue, for he hadn't fought as hard as he had to see firsthand a flaw in his system. Incredibly it was Dulza, who seemed to have gotten most of her wits back after her admission, who suggested their final course of action, which was to dump him down the garbage chute: they could dispose of the body, but not be seen and questioned carrying it out. No one liked it, but no one knew what to do.

They were all so exhausted with the logistics of death that they decided to stay the night at the hotel, though on the ground floor, mostly because Quoto refused to part with Dulza. "I could never sleep knowing she sleeps in pain." Of course, no one had the heart to tell him that she had slept in pain every night of her life. So they slept twelve to a room as the sultry night air enflamed by starlight swept in, bringing the sounds of red-faced patrons carousing until dawn and braying of dogs who fought for the scraps outside the windows.

They awoke the next day, if not refreshed then at least more prepared to face realities than the night before. The only person who seemed returned to normal was Dulza who once again bustled around the room with her unique brand of brusque and bubbly that made her so enchanting for men. She had woken up early – she had a job to do after all – and had helped shield their room from wandering footsteps.

Abel watched as she and Quoto stole a few minutes together. They had spent the morning preparing their plan to board the NSB ship and now they were getting ready to go. Quoto absolutely adored Dulza. He laughed heartily, slapping his thigh, and then whispered something in her ear. Dulza smiled sweetly, the only way she could smile. A smile touched Abel's mouth.

"What a pair," a voice said next to him, and Abel turned. Almina stood glowering at them.

"Is it not sweet?"

Almina snorted. "Not if you know them. They are a pair of solitary souls, each searching for something they will never have: Quoto, the fulfillment of passion; Dulza, security."

Abel frowned and watched as Quoto stroked her hair. "Why can't they find it in each other?"

"If you were from Targecana, you would know." Almina stalked over to her husband who was fiddling with his suit jacket.

Abel watched as Dulza untangled herself from Quoto with promises and invoked her duty to her customers.

.

The group set out from the hotel, but they were interrupted by the brutish scoffs of Sanson. "Almina, you couldn't possibly have thought we'd be traveling with these…on this…that we'd be traveling. You're far too old."

But Almina stubbornly stuck her nose in the air. "Quoto is going, and I am going with him." The padawans had allowed Quoto to accompany them because it meant so much to him, and Almina had always been her brother's protector.

Sanson stopped and considered his wife; perhaps truly considered her for the first time in over thirty years. He had always known her to be stubborn, but he had never known her for an adventurer. In fact, he knew she hated traveling, for her father had forced her to journey to Targecana when she was little and she could never understand why anyone would take a journey just to end up miserable somewhere else when you could save all the bother and be miserable in comfort. So it was something else, something he had overlooked, and for the first time since he had married her, he considered what aspect of his wife he did not know.

And though he tried, he could not fathom it.

Their standoff was once again broken by Quoto who emerged with Dulza in tow, running through the dusty streets.

"My love must come with us," he said when he reached them.

But before the Jedi could even consider it, Dulza was already shaking her head. "I cannot."

Quoto fell into the despair usually reserved for death, betrayals, and hysterical mothers. "Wha…what can you mean? There is nothing for you here. I promised I would take you away. Did I not?"

But for all his imploring, Dulza would not be moved. Finally convinced by her obstinate silence, he took her hand and with a bow, kissed it. "Until the 'morrow, or nigh before the moon and heavens fall, shall I see thee." Though Dulza understood not a word of the archaic parting of Alderaanian novels that Quoto consumed, she nodded.

The party stood watching the couple exchanging their goodbyes in the middle of the dusty Market of the Angels, in amongst the throngs of travelers, framed by exotic fruits, caged birds and scents of roasting almonds. But something caught the eye of Almina who pointed and spoke: "Blood always finds a way."

For though they had stuffed the body of the bandaneeta into the garbage, his blood had wound its way through the cracks, back into the hotel, down the steps, and – like a red carpet – into the street of the Market of the Angels.

Dulza's eyes flashed and she let go of Quoto. She stood tall, as a woman, and spoke calmly: "It was never more than a dream." Then she vanished up the steps. Quoto hardly had time to hang his mouth open before the shots rang out.

.

No one was ever completely sure whether it had been the trail of blood marking the targets or if Dulza, in her never-ending quest for security, had indeed betrayed them to the NSB, but all they knew for certain was that the NSB had found them.

They dodged between the carts and stalls that dominated the square, Abel and Kyrana helping the older ones to move quickly. The lasers seemed to come from everywhere; the windows, the stalls, the ground, the sky, the air crackled with red. The Jedi forced merchandise this way and that, hoping that the distractions would confuse the bandaneetas, or perhaps even hit them, but they refrained from taking out their lightsabers on the chance that they could lose their pursuers.

Tiloa finally found a narrow alley and they followed her, panting, to regroup.

"Is everyone here?" she asked nobody. They did a quick headcount and confirmed they were all present.

"Curse you all for getting us mixed up in your nonsense," Sanson croaked. "We were never friendly with their kind, but at least we were at peace until –"

"Now is not the time," Kyrana said, cutting him off. "Now: can we escape unseen?"

"They are everywhere," Zek answered. "This was clearly planned, and even if we evade the shooters, they have spies."

"Damn those gundals!" Almina shouted, though Abel wasn't sure if she was complaining about the omen or whether she was mixing up her enemies.

But before they could make a plan, a rain of lasers poured from above and once again, they ran for their lives.

They ran and ran, out of the market and into the slums, but even in there, the center of love for the work of Sanson Poonek dol Cailic, the people only looked at them from the corners of their eyes which followed them everywhere, calling the blasters and the men.

The hovels were finally thinning out as they crested a ridge and Abel, who carried Almina on his back, heard her whisper: "Here, at least, there is no one to betray us."

Like the sunrise, they reached the horizon of the hill and saw what lay before them: miles and miles, rolling hills on hills of gravestones. They stuck out at odd ends, some great monolithic memorials, others simple slabs of stone, but each was the same in that it marked death.

And, who had taken the lead, hesitated. "Is this…wise?"

"It does seem like tempting fate a little, doesn't it?" Abel said.

"Fate is always conquerable to the stout of heart!" Quoto proclaimed from Lev's back. Lev narrowed his eyes. Abel thought he heard him mutter something about knights and a pack horse.

"The gravelands is no place for us, Quotada Maranza," Almina said solemnly. "All in Targecana know that the dead walk here. Sometimes, they even stroll through the city. Once, I caught my great aunt trying to overturn my birdbath."

Even knowing Almina's penchant for apparent nonsense, Jedi were always ill-at-ease when talk of spirits loomed.

"I don't feel like fleeing the blasters just to fall into some ghost haunting…business," Puli complained.

"What choice do we have?" Zek countered.

 _Zzzzip! Zap! Zap!_ Clouds of dust spat at their heels, and they turned to find a group of NSB advancing up the hill towards them, accompanied by a bomber that flew above them.

"Alright," Puli said, "I'll take the ghosts."

"Spooky graveyard it is, then," And said, and they followed him into the valley of stone and death.


	23. Chapter 23: The Thunder Clap

A/N

New Word/Concept:

dunverlung

.

* * *

 **Chapter 10: The Thunder Clap**

.

Kerkin was just returning from the quartermaster with another bottle of Asernit to carry her when the rains stopped. She was in mid-swig when she felt the drips fade to mist, and she crested the hill as the first rays of sun peeked through the clouds. She took another swig and looked up and considered the sky.

"Eh. Whelp, I guess you're done." And she toasted her bottle to the sky.

.

"Look alive, b*tches," Kerkin said as the door banged open.

Violet awoke, rubbing her eyes from her mid-afternoon nap. She wasn't normally a napping person, but the rains put everyone in such a drowsy state that lethargy was treated as a right that even the Colonel dared not violate.

"Hello to you too, Kerkin," Massa growled as he too stood up. He stretched, yawned, and glanced at the bottle in her hand. "Ahhh…you must be feeling alive."

"Yep!" Kerkin gave him a toothy grin. "But also, look outside."

Massa pulled himself over to the window and hummed. "Rains stopped. Looks like you don't need that bottle after all."

"Oh, no," Kerkin assured him, "I still very much do." She gulped.

Violet moved to the window to see for herself. Her long respite had come to an end. And while she suspected that the change would ultimately be for the worse, she could not help but be swept up by Kerkin's giddiness, Sciora's relief, Maerung's faith, and Massa's hearty laugh; for how could the opening of the sun cast a shadow?

.

They returned to the mines. The world was so thoroughly soaked that even in the mines the rain continued; it fell from the cavern ceiling, it ran in rivers down the walls, and it pooled at their feet such that Violet was worried that she might meet the same fate as those beleaguered soldiers who died not from a bullet but the slow slouching deterioration in the trenches.

But the work resembled more the furry of a true battle as the ground shook from their hammers and the rain spit in their faces.

"Come on you flibbering worms! Move it! Move it!"

"What did he say?" Violet shouted over the drumming.

Massa wiped his face and responded, but Violet couldn't hear.

"What?!"

Massa shook his head. "I said, I don't know, probably something about keeping going!"

"Argh!" Violet swung her hammer down hard in frustration, dislodging some more dirt. "Why are they so needy all of a sudden?"

"Because," Orlo answered at her shoulder. He would sometimes join them in their work, but she was still surprised to see him in these conditions. "Something's changed. They need dedlanite for weapons and ships, so we must be preparing for war."

Violet paused to stare directly at Orlo. "What do you know?"

Orlo hesitated and began hammering again, but Violet continued staring at him. After a few more passes, he sighed and let his hammer fall. "I don't _know_ anything. But I heard the Colonel talking with a hologram. I couldn't hear who he was talking to, but I heard him shout 'we're not ready!' When he came out he was more agitated than I've seen him in a long time."

Violet frowned and looked to Massa who had also stopped working to listen. He was about to say something when a great groan echoed from above, reverberating in their ears. At once the hammers ceased and only the spitting rain remained.

Violet's sunken eyes shook with fear and Massa held a steady gaze back.

"There are no great beasts under Mogando," Orlo said, standing up. He gazed upward at the cavern ceiling. "But what could it…"

Another groan echoed, then a cracking boom sounded.

Violet felt Massa grab her arm. "Come on, Violet!" He started to drag her, but her feet wouldn't move for they realized what was happening: the ceiling was collapsing.

But she wasn't the only one who was caught in a spell. Orlo was still gazing upward as if to the heavens. Maybe he thought his god could help him, but he was staring into dull rock; there were no stars to see.

"Orlo!" Violet shouted, but he couldn't hear her.

Suddenly a dark shape came hurdling out of the darkness and struck at Orlo. It was the Cripple of Bedesta who had crutched her way right into him in the darkness. Orlo immediately jolted into action, but into the frenzied movements of a cat in a corner as he scrambled to get up. He found Violet in the haze and she saw her same fear reflected in his eyes. The cavern would fall and they would die.

Without speaking, Massa and Violet rushed over to help Orlo and the Cripple to safety. But as Violet grabbed Orlo's hand the great boom sounded. The crack exploded and water bloomed, washing them in a final wave before their death. The ceiling collapsed and fell toward them, a great nothing. The Cripple raised a crutch in defiance. Orlo squeezed Violet's hand. Pebbles rained.

.

They did not die. Massa told Violet later that it was like the splitting of a fruit over a knife. The great rock that sank toward them suddenly broke in two over their heads, with splintering fragments even flying away from them. The rock itself couldn't bear to touch them. They had come away completely unscathed.

The Colonel did not shout or even simmer when he heard what had happened to his mine from the foreman and Orlo. It seemed to Violet that he didn't even care. The only flicker of emotion came when they described the breaking of the rock over their heads. Orlo's vivid description, which included a fair amount of hand-waving and vocal acrobatics, nearly overshadowed the Colonel's reaction, but Violet distinctly saw his eyebrows pop up in surprise. But when she looked again, he had resumed his vacant mood. Moving to a window, he waved them away.

Within days speculative whispers rained down on their community, but most of it centered on the Cripple of Bedesta. Massa and Orlo's descriptions of her raising her crutch like an ancient ward against evil finally convinced the most of the bandaneetas that she was a holy piece of the Godsheart.

But the only one who staunchly disagreed was the Cripple herself, and she told Violet as much as they worked to remove the rubble.

"I know _I'm_ not the one whose very nature is at war with the Force." Violet glanced at her as she sat on the rock she had just moved and stuck out her tongue to catch the rain. "What's better: ill luck or no luck? I suppose that's the heart of it, isn't it?"

.

The flock of gundals, which had been picking at the gravestone grasses, suddenly erupted into honking as they took flight to escape the growing moan of the ships sweeping the area.

Abel stared with apprehension at those ships, which hovered over the endless headstones like dragonflies over the reeds. He could hear them buzzing, pacing back and forth in the haze of the setting sun.

Abel felt someone sidle up to him and he let out a long sigh. "They seem thorough in their searching."

Zek shrugged. "True. But there's a lot to search. And even then, they can't see everything from the air."

It was true. While many of the headstones were simple short slabs of rock, others towered five feet, ten feet, twenty feet high, and still others were ornate statues, porticos, and mausoleums. And it was under one of these that they were now camped.

Abel turned and glanced at the others behind him. "Let's hope that's true." Gray walls surrounded them, though the house of the dead, which was about the size of a countryside church, had four open archways, through which the wind tumbled about their heels and hair. After several hours, the frenetic pace had worn off so that each had chosen their place: Sanson sat with his back against a cracked pillar, his arms folded and head bowed and brooding; one would think he was asleep but for his dead eyes which stared at the ground; Almina sat near her husband, legs curled under her hip, stroking the hair of her brother who was most definitely asleep judging by the rumbling of his nostrils; Tiloa gazed out the southern archway, searching furtively for a plan; Kyrana was tending to Puli who had had a blaster shot graze her shoulder; And, who had said he'd keep watch on the western front, stared blindly ahead, absentmindedly forcing several pieces of debris into a hovering dance in the air; Lev sat alone.

"But they know we're here somewhere," Abel said. "Won't they start to check the mausoleums?"

Zek sighed. "Perhaps. But they still have to worry about the Hutts." Their hunters were still prey themselves, for they were enemies of the Hutt Empire. The ship that had first attacked them as they ran into the fields of stone was quickly chased off by the authorities.

"But of course," Zek continued, "they have not dispersed these ones." He gestured to those circling in the distance to the north. "The authorities might assume that they are only maintenance craft."

"Maybe they really are," Abel said.

Zek grimaced.

No, he didn't think so either.

"It doesn't look like this place gets much maintenance anyways." In some places the grass was as tall as the gravestones; shrubs and brush creeped through the landscape like a cancer and even some trees had built their nests. Had built their bed, and now must lie in it. They had stepped in it now.

Abel let his face fall into the palm of his hand. "How did we come to this?"

Abel heard Zek shift, but he remained silent.

His face felt cooler in the shade of his palm, protected from the rays of the setting sun. The first face he saw was his father's; his father who had loved the shade of the umbrella at the beach much more than the sun. It was his mother who had loved the sun, the crinkles of her eyes born of smiling in the waves as she felt her burdens washed off for a couple days more. She carried the grief of so many within herself, yet she, who bore that grief with a strength that could only come from an unbound reservoir of love, and his father, who kept a steady hand on the tiller with his unflappable faith in happiness, had never once failed them so utterly. Because Abel also remembered being beside the water on another occasion, the coolness of the shade from the trees, and the splashing of a girl whose face had faded unless put into the context of a definitive memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Zek." Abel opened his face toward the dying sun. "I'm a train without tracks."

"Well," Zek said, sensing opportunity, "trains cannot go anywhere without tracks. But you have gone somewhere."

Abel closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling slightly. "What is it with Jedi and playing metaphors out too long?" He glanced at Zek.

Zek's brow lifted. "I suppose there is still wisdom to be gained."

"Perhaps," Abel said, winking. 'Perhaps'was one of Zek's favorite words.

"Most likely, though, it is all _ppppt_." Zek made a noise like a horse. Abel laughed despite himself.

"And's got to you."

"We've all got to each other in some way or another," Zek responded.

Abel quieted at that and stared away, thinking.

After a few moments, Zek said in a different tone, "We all fail, you know. It has always been the Jedi way. Everyone's way, actually."

Abel laughed bitterly. "You think I'm upset at failure?" Zek raised an eyebrow, but Abel just shook his head. "No, I've failed countless times. I have enough experience with that."

"Then what?" Zek asked. "If you were worried for your friend, that would be one thing, but it is not worry that grips you; I see that clearly enough. You have the beaten-down lost look of someone sunk by feelings of failure."

Abel opened his mouth, then shut it. He didn't know.

Zek's presence softened. "You cannot do your work as a Jedi if your mind is wrapped in failure," he said gently.

"It's not failure," a garbled voice spoke.

Abel turned and saw Lev approach them; he teetered on the edge of sitting down, but he remained standing.

"It's guilt."

"It is the same," Zek said.

"No. They go together, but not the same," Lev answered. Abel had never seen him so confident in his words. "Nothing more Abel could have done to prevent the kidnapping. He knows this. Nothing more he could have done to track her down; we have been resourceful and lucky; and even now we are only a ship away from finding Mogando and Violet. He has not failed. It is not the fear or guilt of failure that haunts him, but the guilt of dreaming."

Zek frowned, but Abel understood.

"Abel has always denied himself, denied the Jedi within himself. But with Violet, he began to dare to dream that he might be great. And so his downfall, and so his guilt."

Abel instinctively scratched at his shoulder as if to cover up.

"Our mission only made solid this thought; he is not a leader, he is not great."

Zek was staring in wonderment at Lev; this was surely the most he had ever heard the Ortolan speak at once. But Abel felt the words pierce the only way that truth can.

"I was always…a good learner," Abel said. "I'm dutiful that way. And I like it. With my master" _(Where was she?)_ "I could accomplish things. I could complete missions. Maybe that's what I'll be: a lifelong padawan." He sneered. "I made –" He paused and cleared his throat. "You were willing to follow me on this, this…whatever this mission is, but I…" He glanced at Zek who looked on him with concern. "I can't do it," he said meekly. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Zek let out a slow sigh through his nostrils and flicked his eyes to the others. "Not to offend you, Abel, but I am a better learner than even you are. All my life, it is all I have done. It is the duty of the Cerean, such that a human cannot understand. The sleep I have lost –"

Zek grumbled.

"The pressure of my youth has never left me. It presses constantly, like the pull of gravity. I have to know, I have to know…everything. But doing? The way of our initiate training is new, and I was ill-prepared for it; even less prepared for life after it. That is why I was so consumed with taking the blue path and studying chemistry; studying was safe."

He paused to collect from the pool of his memories, to sort them.

"I…" He closed his eyes tightly, collecting, and every syllable hit like lead. "I could not do what Tiloa and And did. I could not. It was not fear that stopped me, for my body or even of failure; I was not built to do."

Zek breathed out; the wind whistled through the window and shivered the stone. Zek glanced again at the others.

"None of us really know what we are doing, not even And or Tiloa." Abel followed his gaze to where Tiloa fruitlessly sought an answer through the maze of death and And mined his own thoughts for gold but found nothing but rocks like those that he mindlessly twirled about the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kyrana stand and stretch; Puli was healed.

"Kyrana seems to know; she always knows."

Zek took in breath, perhaps to speak, but when Abel glanced at him his eyes were closed. He wore a half-smile. He sensed Abel searching him and he gave a noncommittal grunt. "Kyrana shows confidence, yes."

"And kindness," Lev said reflexively.

Kyrana saw them talking and moved toward them. Should be about dinner time. Zek assumed so too and rose to his feet. He held out a hand to help Abel up.

"We're all lifelong padawans, Abel." Abel swung up with a little help from the Force. "But somewhere along the way…" Zek shrugged.

.

There was no fire; obviously, it would have been a clear signal for their predators. They hadn't needed it for their food, which they carried in packages designed for rough conditions. It was bland, but filling enough.

No, they didn't need a fire for the food, but for the cold. In the city, the warm day gave way to a tropically cool night, refreshing and sedentary. But out here in the wild plains, there was nothing to contain the warm moisture, and so the wind drove it all out, chilling the padawans and their companions.

The sky was a deep blue, the sun gone, but still near enough to give them enough light to make out the shape of one another as they sat in a rough circle, sipping tea. But Abel didn't need the light, only the smell of sweat, the labored breathing, and the heavy step to know that it was Quoto who had just landed next to him.

"Argh, I couldn't take their sniping," he groaned. Abel knew he was talking about Sanson and Almina; Sanson was grumbling about the state of the food, not even cooked, like some stargeezer out of Mygeeto, besides, he was too old for this anyways, he had earned his quiet life and his bones couldn't bear the weight of the running, oh the running, and did they help out, no, well maybe, but they never paused to consider, and now we're sitting on the stone floor, if the running didn't do him in, the bruises from sitting all day most certainly would, yes he knows he sits all day, but those chairs, and besides, Almina, you have no business pointing fingers, it was your ill-conceived, reckless, selfish decisions that got us into this mess, oh don't turn this on me, Sanson, I did what I had to do, if you had half the backbone you pretend to have, well you wouldn't be complaining about sitting on the floor, I'll tell you that, but besides, you have never had to deal with half of what I had gone through by the time I first wore my hair down, and you've been sitting on cushions your whole life, don't tell me you'll roll over and die the first time your ass finally hits the turf…

Abel sighed. "I must say, it is impressive to hold such a steady stream."

"It's as steady as this wind," Quoto blurted out, shaking a fist at one of the archways, which caused him to spill some of his tea on his shirt. "Ach!" He brushed at it as if that would get rid of the moisture already seeped into the material. "Eh, not so much of a loss anyways, if you don't mind. Now, if it had had a little nip…but you don't carry that, do you?"

Abel clicked his lips. "Nope. Jedi generally try to stay away from things that will dull our sense. More or less."

"'More or less,'" Quoto laughed boisterously, "I'll drink to that, my friend."

Abel noticed Almina shoot him an angry look, but Quoto's eyes were nowhere but the bottom of his cup.

"Drained and gone," he said a couple seconds later. He smacked his lips. "No use draining it, but it's so much a habit…" Quoto continued jabbering away, and Abel knew why, but he didn't get to that subject until a couple minutes later.

"…No, she was useless, but Dulza…now she was a rare one," he said sloppily. It was like he didn't know how to talk about these things sober, so his body, sensing drink and conversation, made up the rest for him: a psychosomatic drunk. "The first time I saw her, I knew; it was like I knew her all my life. She was bent over a table, hovering over the other men like an angel bending to bless the mortals, her tresses long and winding, not straight…such a rare thing… She had trembled at my touch, like a butterfly with a broken wing. We did nothing that first night but hold each other; and in her eyes I found a soul more worthy than all the souls spread over these fields put together. The second night we began to talk, but we soon found that we had nothing more to say that wasn't already said in the silence of our first night; after love, what more is there to say?"

He lapsed into silence, leaving Abel to ponder the alien man next to him. If ever there were an example of the phrase 'love is blind,' he did not think a more perfect one existed than the story of the man next to him.

"Come," Quoto said, suddenly sitting up, "tell me of your love." Abel had the feeling of a therapy session with some sort of love guru.

"My love?"

"Yes, the one you are going to rescue, yes?"

Ah. "She's not…my love. She's a friend."

"Ahhh _mabookee_ …" Quoto drawled in Low Huttese, "it is not good to stifle your love. If you do not bring your flower to the sun, then how will it grow? You have to shine a light."

Abel looked at him skeptically through half-lidded eyes.

"Trust me, my whole life has been love. I can see it, smell it, even taste it sometimes… I have a gift that way, and I know you are a man in love."

Abel shuddered. The wind had picked up again. But Quoto, who was red in the face from drinking love, hardly noticed it.

"She…" Abel began. _She what?_ How could he even begin to describe what Violet really meant to him? All he could think to say was: "she's a blackberry in summer." Abel stamped his foot, trying to think. But credit to Quoto; for all his loquaciousness, he knew when to let silence ride. "Violet is many good things," Abel sighed. "Smart, kind, intuitive, but adjectives are so inadequate. How do you –"

But Quoto waved him off. "No, no, don't just tell me who she is; who is she _to you_?"

Abel frowned, but he fumbled through as he discovered his feelings through the words that spilled out. "From the first, I knew she was different. There wasn't anything particularly special, but I knew. No, that's not it – it's not that she was different from the sameness of the world, but that she was like me; that we both _saw_ ourselves as different. Many people do this, I guess, but we did this in similar ways." He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't make sense of it. "We have the same fears when it comes to love, and together we fear no more. We found our worlds breaking around us, slowly crumbling, more felt than seen, and thought that together we could stem the tide." He sighed. "It is not a traditional love story, maybe not a love story at all, but it is what it is. We never hoped but in our dreams. That is why she is a blackberry in summer, the last fruit tasted in the halcyon days before the cold winds of winter beat us back; she is the last best thing I have to hold onto of a hope from home."

Abel finished and huddled closer to himself. In the silence, Quoto let out a low whistle. "The 'last best thing.' Sure right." The last light of day had gone, so Abel could not see, but he imagined a tear rolling down his companion's cheek.

"Why…why do you still believe in Dulza? After how she betrayed you?" Abel spoke softly, as one speaks to a child.

"Oh look," Quoto said, and Abel heard him get to his feet. "It is so dark outside, we don't need to cower in fear anymore, cooped up in this sad stone. Awoo!" Quoto yelled as he stepped out of the archway.

Abel stood up to quiet him, but Almina beat him to it. "Shut up, you stupid fool!" She bounded to him and clocked him on the head.

"There's no one for miles," Quoto answered. "No one to see, no one to hear. How freeing darkness can be!"

Abel stepped next to Almina who looked out the archway to where Quoto trudged in the darkness. There was no moon.

"Darkness is everywhere," Almina said. "If you want to know why Quoto still believes in Dulza, there's your answer. In a place like Targecana, on the edge of the galaxy where our nights are pitch black and we are overcrowded to exhaustion not from the living people but from the graves of the dead, you make your own hope." She twisted her bracelet. "Quoto is a fool for believing in Dulza, but we are all fools here for some reason or another. We all know that sooner or later the luck will fail, but what else is there to do? It's all just time."

"If nothing at all matters," Abel said, "then why did you agree to help us? And don't just say that it's to protect Quoto, because that's not the only reason."

"My, you do love to ask questions," Almina said. She fell silent, and Abel thought that like Quoto, she wouldn't answer, but she surprised him again.

"I did not grow up in wealth, like my husband. Or rather, my father connived his way into material wealth, which is not the same. All my life, I was forced to be the best good girl I could; I was my father's only hope for achieving his last goal: to be accepted among the true wealth, the old wealth. And I did all he asked of me and more, though even then it was never enough," she spat. "But there was one blip: Faro Azalus. A more charming boy never lived, but he was hopelessly naïve, like Quoto, believing in things. I was still a girl in a braid, but he loved me; we spied each other secretly, never meeting for fear of my father, but our glances were enough to excite my soul. But it could never be between a scrawny bastard from a Manisma whore whose only claim to manliness was a job at a communications center, and a girl destined for Gocola Hill. No. And so it happened one day when my Twi'lek servant Scola and I were in the Market of the Angels taking pictures in our best clothes, and we were so happy laughing together as girls should, that when I saw him approach me and saw the wondrous look on his face as one beholding a true angel, and saw him pull out a bracelet to bind us together in marriage and saw how his young hands – those sinewy hands – shook with fear and love, I knew then that he would only ever be a dream; and I told him so and without one look back, I strode away from him toward the destiny planned out before me."

Her final words poured out in such a torrent that she drew breath quickly to steady herself.

"Why I've told you of this, I do not know, but I know that the one flower of my life wilted when I was but a girl, and I have not seen one since. Perhaps I have enough strength in my dying body to see something through to the end."

Almina fell silent as Quoto returned. But immediately Abel knew something was wrong, because he was panting a lot harder than usual.

"Voices," he croaked, collapsing on the stone floor. "I heard voices from beyond the graves."

.

The ships returned. During the rains, the upper atmosphere had deterred traders from their outland post. Mogando had weathered well as they always did during the turns of their shifty planet, but the citizens rejoiced when fresh fruits and new oddities came down from the sky.

This also meant the return of cargo needed for the operations of the NSB.

And so Violet and the others went down to fetch them.

Droids were arranged in presentable lines, while crates of food sent odors fragrant and foul wafting through the ship exhaust. Traders called to one another and slapped the heads of Mogandan urchins who tried to nip a trinket. Mothers fought tooth and nail for a chance to buy some spice at half the cost.

Violet stared stony-eyed at the trader who frowned and rubbed his chin. Orlo was pushing for a shipment of carbonite-frozen food packets, as the banda camp was running dangerously low on sustenance, and his chin jutted out as he demanded.

"Four thousand," the trader said. His knuckles leaned on the rusty box, smiling.

Orlo's lip curled. "Four thousand? For food that's been sh*t out of a nerf's ass?"

The trader shrugged. "The food's not half bad; we got it out of Bothawui. Besides, with the carbonite processing, Hutt fees, and risking the Heart's wrath to get here…it starts to add up." Orlo continued to glare at him. The trader sighed dramatically and scratched his bald head. "I can see that you're hurtin'; my mother grew up on Tysk, I know what it's like; so I'll knock off two hundred credits. Consider it a weakness on my part."

Orlo's eyes narrowed. "We don't want charity, we want fair prices. Two hundred credits wouldn't buy a fart."

The trader bent over his box and leaned on his elbows. "Look, _dongo, ootmian nopa nayoka lust_. And it doesn't matter where you are; outlanders are always outlanders. You take what you can get."

Orlo's eyes burned, and for a moment Violet thought he might betray them: the traders did not know they were the NSB.

Noticing Orlo's reaction, the trader smiled. "Go ahead, boy. Give the Hutts a reason to come. They'd wipe away your little village easy as swallow a paddy frog."

Orlo gritted his teeth. "But we don't have four thousand credits. Or three thousand eight hundred either."

"How much your family need anyway? I can split the shipment."

"It's not just for the family; it's for the town."

The trader smirked. "Cute." Violet noticed the trader looking over the citizens who bustled between the makeshift stalls. He straightened up. Violet thought he looked almost proud.

"And the town can't even manage four thousand?"

"We're small. And we very seldom deal in currency."

The trader gave him an odd look that Violet couldn't place. Then he clicked his tongue and said "Well, we could always barter if you have something of value. Slaves, maybe." His eyes flicked to Violet.

"We keep no slaves here."

"Oh yes; I forgot about the promises that built Mogando."

"They build her still."

Slam. Fist on the box. The trader had lost patience. "But not enough for the village to feed itself."

Orlo smiled his first true smile. "Mogando was never built on food."

"Starve then." The trader whistled and two crewmates appeared. "Roll 'em back up."

The crewmates started to lift the boxes onto dollies. Violet glanced furtively at Orlo, expecting him to be frantically thinking up a way to get them back, or maybe even standing calmly with an ace up his sleeve. But he did neither of those things; instead, he gave one last frown, spun around, and walked away.

Violet had to scurry to catch up to his long haunting strides. "So…what? Are you expecting them to blink?"

"No. I'm expecting them to leave." Violet blinked, but Orlo continued to brood forward.

"We need food."

"We have food."

"Not enough."

"Enough to survive."

"For how long?"

"Not long."

Orlo stopped and turned around. The trees lining the path had thinned, and they could clearly see the beach where they had come from and the ocean beyond it. Violet sensed that Orlo was looking for something, but she couldn't think of what.

He looked down at her.

"They've forced our hand." His mouth was set.

Violet stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

But he didn't. He turned once again and continued climbing the path to the camp.

But Violet stayed.

There wasn't really a decision on her part, her feet simply didn't move.

She watched as Orlo, wrapped in his own world, swept past overlong leaves which crowded the path. He disappeared into the jungle. And Violet was alone.

How queer it was to find herself alone, the first time since she had been held captive on the ship. Yet the possibility of escape never even entered her mind, didn't even excite her legs or prick at her like a phantom limb. No.

She could hear the waves, faintly. The gentle hush and rush of them, egging her into herself. The breeze lifted strands of hair, but they were not spun wild across her face. No, it was a calm day, the sun mostly shining through. She breathed.

She wondered if even so sweet a breath as that was worth it. Was that all she had to be thankful for, the sweet taste of the air? Would that be her only consolation from now until forever? So much taken, and now even food denied. She still had air. But in a world dominated by stars, even air wasn't a given. So should she be content with that?

A flash of yellow and she thought only the sun, but a sound made her focus. There, hovering, no bigger than a rose petal, was a bee. Or something like it. It was yellow like a bee, and had a small head with black eyes and wings humming from its body, but it looked feathery and had no stinger.

It seemed to be considering Violet just as much as she was considering it. It hummed a little to the right, then listed lazily to the left; then it spun in a circle around Violet and finally landed on Violet's shoulder.

She reached up a hand to touch it, but then thought better of it.

"It's a _dunverlung_."

Orlo had come back.

She knew he would sooner or later.

"They are not dangerous?"

"Not at all."

She reached up once again to touch it, and though it scurried away from her touch, it still clung to her.

Orlo walked over next to her. "They like heat. That's why it's on you."

The dunverlung left Violet's shoulder and landed instead on Orlo. It paced around in a circle, then sat still on his neck.

"They tend to like me. Maybe I'm warmer than most."

"Maybe." Violet, who had been staring at the bug, caught Orlo's eye and looked away. She took a few steps toward the sea and breathed again.

"You didn't run," Orlo observed.

"No."

The waves beat on. The distant sea was still though.

Violet suddenly laughed. "You did, though." She looked back at him. "You ran away."

He bared his teeth like a cat. "I didn't run."

"Didn't the Colonel tell you to buy food?"

"He won't care. The others might, but he knows what's coming."

"We're leaving," Violet said simply. "You're going to invade my home."

Orlo nodded. "Free from the Heart, free from the Hutts…" These words fell out of his mouth, like he was tired of speaking them.

The two of them stood side-by-side, staring ahead, each knowing the other to be an enemy, but too wrapped in the Mogandan breeze and the pull of the Godsheart to fight their endless march.

"This was supposed to be our end." Orlo gestured around him. "Mogando. My home." He knelt and fingered the dirt. It was rocky and unsatisfying. Already down in a crouch, he sank to the ground. "Here, we would be free. But the Heart was too much. We did not foresee it. And still the Hutts came; they found us, and we became just the same, only poorer."

Violet, who still stood, looked down on the boy playing in the dirt, defeated. _And what would they do to her world_ , she wondered. _Would Earth become just another plaything of unions and empires until it expired from exhaustion?_ The disease would spread, and she could do nothing (could she?).

She heard another humming. A second dunverlung had appeared and at its appearance, the first beat its wings to announce its presence. The second then joined the first on Orlo.

Orlo sighed and Violet even managed a laugh.

"They do have a way of humbling you," he said, getting to his feet. "It's what they're built to do, find warmth. Their eggs need warmth to survive, so they fly across the land searching for warm places to build new nests."

"Are they going to make a nest out of you?" Violet asked.

Orlo brushed them off. At his touch, they flew away in search of a new warm place.

"Maybe."

When they returned, they saw that the whole camp had been turned out. Soldiers milled about chatting in threes and fours, cigarette smoke wafting to heaven, sleeves rolled up or jackets tied at the waist, some even reclining in the shade of the Cathedral. But they were all here nonetheless.

"The Priest came by a couple minutes ago; said we were all needed outside," Massa said when Violet asked.

"War." Violet turned to see The Cripple of Bedesta slumped on the ground. The Cripple gave her a toothy smile.

The doors to the command bunker burst open. The crowd of soldiers fell silent as they saw their Colonel step into view, surrounded by his lieutenants. By the time he took the steps to address the banda, the compound was silent.

"Today, we witness the end of fear. We have cowered at galaxy's edge; no longer. We have been found. Look to the skies, to the stars, the enemy has found us, and this is good: for it is here and now that we settle things, to be born again or to die. Either way, it is triumph." The Colonel was as straight and hard as a tree trunk.

"To war."

.

"Voices?"

The other padawans rushed over as Abel's ears stretched into the dark night. His senses strained.

"The dead are talking," Almina whispered, her voice shaking.

"Quiet woman!" Sanson had joined their huddle. "The dead don't talk."

Tiloa hushed the quarrel and Abel turned to Lev who stood beside him.

"Well? What do you think?"

Lev stared back with his opal eyes, barely visible in the night.

"How should I know?"

Abel didn't reply, but continued to look to his friend for guidance.

Lev turned his gaze out into the night. He sniffed. Twice. He grumbled – or perhaps hummed, Abel couldn't tell – and shook his head. He couldn't figure anything.

An ear stiffened. Intake of breath.

"What?"

Lev looked alert, more alert than he had the whole trip.

"Vibrations. Faint."

A shivering squeak from Almina.

"I don't feel anything," And said.

An eruption of wind pierced the night. Blackness blacker than night covered the stars in front of them. A flicker of something.

"The masked figure," Abel whispered.

Before him he perceived the same fright, the same devilry that had infected his home by the lake. That had attacked Violet. Abel cried out and fell to the ground, his legs like jelly.

He felt Kyrana's hands on his shoulders.

"It's a flock of gundals," Almina whispered.

And looking up, Abel saw it to be true: the black mass was the flock, the whipping wind their wings.

"Abel, what –" But Kyrana was cut off by Zek's question.

"Why did the gundals fly?"

Silence. They did not know.

Doubt crept. Why had he fallen to pieces? Why did he see the masked figure? Was it an illusion? Lack of sleep? Was it a ghost?

Why did the gundals fly?

A whisper. A hole of silence. Foot scraped against rock.

"Hmm," Sanson stated as if a fact, "it is probably only –"

 _boom CRASH!_

A red blaze and the mausoleum exploded. Part of the wall splintered as rocky debris crackled into the night. Blaster shots rang out in front of them, searing over the heads and blistering their feet.

It wasn't a ghost after all; the NSB had found them.

They scrambled back under the cover of the mausoleum and cowered behind the central grave, which was easily the size of a truck and raised on a dais.

"Now what?" Tiloa shouted, fragments of rock still pelting about.

But before anyone could answer, several streaks of light beamed before them, and more joined to either side: they were surrounded on all four sides.

"Can we use our lightsabers _now_?" And yelled.

But still Abel hesitated. Jedi were not supposed to be here. Once word spread of seven lightsabers seen in Targecana, the Council would have to answer to the people and Abel and his friends would have to answer to the Council; so bad all around. But they needed cover.

"Here; up onto the tomb."

They clambered up, the padawans helping the old ones, and crouched into the depression. Abel felt the pebbled craters beneath his hands. Each crater had once contained jewels and other precious metals, placed there long ago by the wealthy relatives of the dead, but they had been either been stolen by thieves or removed by the relatives for fear of thieves when the gravelands died. The whole depression itself was a face, the deathmask.

The bandaneetas continued to advance.

"How do we attack?" Puli asked. "We'll be cut to ribbons once we make a move." The onslaught of blaster shots continued to pummel the structure.

Tiloa looked at And. "We could try leaping towards the ceiling? From that angle we could drop down on one side, take them down one by one?"

But And looked up skeptically. "The pillars look smooth. I don't know if we could get a good grip."

"Agh!" Tiloa pounded her fist.

"What is the good," Almina huffed, "of all you Jedi if you can't even take out a few soldiers?"

No one answered her.

"Can we try hitting them with the Force?" Puli suggested.

"You can try," And said. "I can't get a good feel for them out there."

And was right, Abel thought. He didn't know if it was the darkness, the hectic pace, or some lingering weight in the gravelands, but they were like shifting sands in the mind of the Force.

"Well; we've got to do something."

But nobody answered. The roof over their heads rained pebbles as it teetered.

Abel caught Kyrana's eye. She sighed, then steeled herself. "Nothing else."

"Like lightning?"

"Faster than thunder."

They held out their fists and touched forearms.

Just like Skye.

The others watched their exchange quizzically, and they explained: act fast, act big, and hope to catch them by surprise. No tricks, just fast; and a lot of luck.

"Yes!" Quoto bellowed. While the others were still processing, Quoto reddened with passion. "Stand or still! The blaze breaking and no turning back. This is the hour of life and death, not either but both. We go to triumph!" Quoto stood above the din and was bathed in light; his brow was set but his face shone as his flags unfurled and the trumpet blasts called.

"Down fool!" Almina tugged at her brother and he lost his footing on the craters, tumbling back down as blasts cut over his head, his elbow punching into the deathmask's eye. "Didn't you hear the Jedi? Be quick or die. And it's no use you going, or else it's assuredly 'die.'"

But her last words were drowned out by a great groaning. Several of the Jedi looked up until they realized it was coming from beneath them: great gears were at work, for as Quoto punched the eye, the mouth of the mask slid slowly open, revealing a great hole.

And a tunnel.

The ring of soldiers had closed to within feet of the steps, but they had found a way out.

"Down! Down! Down!" And shouted. One by one, they piled through the tunnel, each giving hardly a breath before tumbling down after the other.

Abel, the last to go, caught one last sight of the mausoleum lit like a candled cathedral before he dropped into the din.

He fell only a couple feet before he hit damp dirt.

"All in," Zek said, "but how do we close it?"

As if in answer, the constant battering had finally proved too much for the mausoleum roof as a great crack sounded and the great stone roof collapsed. The party hurled themselves forward, but their tunnel held. They were unharmed by the collapse.

But there way out was shut. All was quiet.


End file.
